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Corporation 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibKographiques 


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The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 
D 
D 
D 
D 
D 


D 
D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul6e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I   n   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Re\\6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrde  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout^es 
lore  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  film6es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lul  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  methods  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
□ 

D 


D 
D 
D 
D 


Coloured  pages/  , 

Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pellicul6es 

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Pages  d6color6es,  tacheties  ou  piqu^es 

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Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

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Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppi^mentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
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slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  una  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  fiimtos  A  nouveau  de  fa^on  A 
obtenir  la  meilieure  image  possible. 


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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  fiimi  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


y 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  hes  been  reproduced  thenks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Library  of  the  Public 
Archives  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  filmA  fut  reproduit  grdco  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

La  bibliothdque  des  Archives 
publiques  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  Impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -^(meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Las  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin.  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  l'exemplaire  fllm6.  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fllmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sent  fiimds  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sent  fiimds  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbola  V  signifie  "FIN  ". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hend  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff6rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  I'engle  sup6rieur  geuche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n6cessaire.  Les  diagram mes  suivants 
iilustrent  la  mithode. 


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Carillon. 

(The  rrumbllng  fortress  of  Tleondftroga 
was  built  by  the  French  engineer,  Lot- 
blulert',  la  1776.  and  called  by  the  French 
Carillon,  which  means  "Chime  oi  Belle." 
This  nume  was  chosen,  so  the  legend  runs, 
from  the  distant  music  of  the  waters  of 
the  outlet  of  Lake  George  as  they  deficeud 
throuKh  the  rocky  chasm  a  mild  from  the 
fnrt.  The  roar  of  the  fall  could  be  plainly 
heard  in  the  walls  of  'TI  "  Petoofejnque 
was  the  Indlaa  name  for  Lake  Cbsmplaiu.) 

A  hundred   fifty  years   auo, 

Along  Petonbonque's  tide, 
A  gallant  baud  of  Frenchmen  satled 

To   hum  Die    Ec&land's    itride. 

A  rocky  steep  that  looked  abroad. 
Whore   Champlaln's   waters   shoue, 

They  circled  with  a  bristling  fort 
And  called  It  Carition. 

Whence  came  the  name  so  sweet  and  dear 

To  peaceful  hearts  in  France? 
Why  chose  these  soldiers  of  Montcalm 
,     This  name  of  old  romance? 

Perchance  that  man   maeulflcent, 

Victim  of  wars'   mischance. 
Recalled  the  days  of  sunny  youth 

In  loved  but  distant  France. 

■i: 

Perchance  through  chambers  of  bis  soul 
The  childhood  rotMu'ries  rolled, 

How  far  away  the  An^elus 
At  taorn  anil  even  tolled. 

Thus,   Carillon,   sweet  chime   of  bella. 

Thy   vibrant   name    was   won 
From   land-locked  waters  thund'ring  down 

Like  boom   of  distant   gun. 

And  oft  as  undulating  notes 
Stole  'neath  the  mountains'  brow, 

They  mingled  with  the  winds  that  swept 
Thiough  pines  with  sobbing  sough. 

Bo,  though  with  sad,  prophetic  yoice, 
1    Thy  rushins,'  waters   told 
Of  savage  wars'  vludicUve  glut 
And  race-hata  uucoutrnlled; 

Still,  Carilion,  thy  name  shall  last 

And  thine,  Lotbiniere, 
A  mem'ry  of  the  mighty  strife 

That  thrilled  the  nations  there. 

—H.  H.  Gesner  in  Boston  Transcript.  ^ 


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-J^ 


THE 


1H« 


NATURAL    AND    CIVIL 


HISTORY 


I 


t . 


OF 


y  E  E  M  O  N  T. 


BY  S\MUEL  WILLIAMS,  LL.  D. 

Memblr  or  THE  Meteorolooical  Socjety  in    Ckrmany,  or  rut 
PuiLosormcAL     Socieiy  in     Piui.adeli'iha,  a\d  or  tub 

ACADKMV  BF  Arts  AND  ScitNCKS  IN  MASiACUUSKXTi, 


IN   TWO    Vnr.TTMES. 


Volume  L 


THE     SECOND       EDITION,      CORIlECT£D      ANA 
MUCH    ENLARGED. 


BURLINGTON,  Vt. 

PRINTED     BY    SAMUEL    MILLS. 
Sold  at  ms  Bookstore  in  Burlinoton,  by  Mills  and  Whitb, 
MiooLEBURY,  Isaiau  Thomas,  Ju.v,  Worcrster,  TnoMAi 
AND  Andrews,  Boston,  '1'uomas  and  W'niPf  le  anb 
S.  Sawtkk   and  Co.  Newbukyport. 


130 


9. 


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4 


DISTRICT  OF  VERMONT,  to  wit. 


(  L.  S.  ) 


BE  It  rt-mrmbcred,  that  ©n  the  twenty  fifth  day  of  Febrti- 
ary,  in  the  thirty  thiril  yiar  of  tkr  liukptiKlcnic  of  the 
United  States  nt  Anurifa,.Samuii  Mills  of  Burlingtfin  in 
faid  District,  hath  deposited  in  fhi^  OfficL,  the  title  of  a 
Book,  the  right  uhertof  he  claims  as  proprietor,  in  the 
words  following,  to  wit; 
«<  The  Natural  and  Civil  History  of  Vermont.  By  Samuel  Williams, 
"L1-.  D.  Member  of  the  Meteorological  Socuty  in  Oerniany,  of  the 
«« PhiloMiphical  Soci.ty  in  Fhiludelphia,  and  ■"f  the  academy  of  arts 
•'and  Scienter  in  Maf.sdchu»etts.  In  two  Volumes.  Volume  I.  'I'hc 
**secenid  edition,  corrc<5led  and  much  enlarged." 

In  conformity  to  the  a«il  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  cn» 
titled  •'  an  aCt  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  co- 
pies of  Maps,  Charts  and  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of 
•ucb  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned," 

Cti'H    s.  SMITH,  jun. 

r  i.ti<  of  the  Diftiifl  gf  Vermont. 
A  true  Copy  of  Recotd, 

CtPHAS  SMITH,  Jurt»  Clerk. 


P(^  fV  1 

\K\  '1, 


V. 


\ 


: 


1 


TO  THE  CITIZENS  OF  THE  STATE  OF 


VERMONT, 


THE  FOLLOWING  0BSERVATI0N8 


ON  THEIR 


*? 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

HISTORY, 

ARE  HUMBLY  INSCRIBED  ; 

Al  A  TESTIMONY  OF  RESPECT  FOR  THEIR 

MANY   VIRTUES, 

AS  AN  ATTEMPT  TO  PROMOTE 

A  MORH  PARTICULAR  ACQUAINTANCE 

WITH  THEIR  OWN  AFFAIRS, 

AND  WITH  THE  MOST  ARDENT  WISHES  FOR 

THEIR  FURTHER  IMPROVEMENT 

AND  PROSPERITY, 

BY  THEIR  OBEDIENT 
AND  HUMBLE 
SERVANT, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


Jutland,  July  16,   1794. 


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,( 


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I 


PREFACE. 


o-s©©© 


THREE  centuries  have  passed  away 
Rince  Americ  a  was  first  disccivrred  hy  Colum- 
bus. From  that  time  until  now,  the  aflairs  of 
America  have  engaged  the  attention  of  historians 
and  philosophers.  The  natural  productions  of 
this  continent,  have  been  one  object  of  general 
inquiry.  Among  the  Spanish  writers,  there  are 
some  good  essays  on  the  natural  history  of  the 
southern  ])arts  of  America.  In  Canada,  some  of 
the  physicians  and  Jesuits  were  attentive  to  the 
natural  productions  of  that  part  of  the  continent ; 
and  have  left  some  valuable  pieces  on  the  natural 
b".>tory  of  New  France.  This  kind  of  knowledge 
was  not  much  attended  to,  by  the  fu'st  settlers  of 
the  British  colonies  ;  and  we  have  but  few  of 
their  ancient  writings,  in  w  hich  it  was  contem- 
plated at  all.  Obliged  to  depend  upon  transient 
and  partial  accounts,  the  best  writer  upon  natural 
history,  M.  de  Buftbn,  has  fallen  into  many  mis- 
takes resj)ecting  the  natural  productions  of  A- 
merica,  which,  more  accurate  observations  would 
have  corrected.  The  subject  instead  of  being 
fully  explored,  is  yet  a  treasure  but  little  ex- 
amined. 

TJie  Man  of  Ainerica  was  an  object  still  more 
curious  and  important.  But  the  age  in  which 
the  first  discoveries  and  settlements  were  made, 
was-  not  enough  enlightened,  to  afford  either  ac- 
curate or  impartial  observations,  on  the  manners, 
customs,  language,  abilities,  or  state  of  society, 
among  the  Indians.     Prejudiced  by  their  sordid 


•III 


II  'i 


I, 


i  ( 


PREFACE. 


mannrrF;,  aiul  cnrap;cd  by  their  barbarities,  the 
incu  of  Juiropc  never  looked  for  any  ihinj^  good 
{II  such  men  :  And  while  interest  and  rcvenj^e 
joiiKcl  to   destroy  that   unhappy   raee,    but   few 


to 


id. 


Ineu-  customs  or  rights 
with  calmness,  or  dared  to  sty  any  thing  in  their 
fa\'or.  It  is  not  more  than  half  a  centur}',  since 
this  sii].)ject  has  been  properly  attended  to  by 
pliilosopiiers  :  And  iheir  coiiclusions  have  been 
of  the  most  0])posile  and  contrary  kinds.  Some 
have  with  j^ix-aL  zeal  advanced,  that  the  peifec- 
tiofi  of  man  was  to  i)e  found  in  the  savage  state  ; 
while  others  have  as  warmlv  contended,  that  this 
was  the  lowest  state  of  de!:i:radation  and  abase- 
nient,  to  wliich  the  human  race  can  possibly  be 
reduced.  Siicli  opposite  and  contrary  systems 
iiiake  it  necessary  to  examine  this  part  of  Che 
natural  history  of  m  in,  uith  great  care  and  im- 
partialll}'  ;  that  we  may  distinguish  what  was 
valuv^ble  iii  that  stage  of  society,  and  what  was 
disadvantageous  and  degrading. 

A:7  obji;ct  of  still  higlier  magnitude  and  itn- 
poruince,  has  been  presented  to  our  view  by  the 
American  Revolution.  The  first  settlers  in  tlie 
British  colonics  were  left  in  a  great  measure  by 
their  sovereio-ns,  to  take  cure  of  themselves.  The 
only  situation  which  they  could  take,  while  they 
were  clcari;ig  the  woods  and  forming  their  set- 
tlements, was  tliat  of  eciuaiitv,  iiidustry,  and 
economy.  \\  such  a  situatio!^.  every  tiling  ten- 
ded to  produce;  and  to  establish  the  spirit  of 
li-eedum.  Their  employments,  customs,  man- 
ners, and  habits  ;  their  wants^,  dangers,  and  in- 
terests, were  nearly  the  same  ;  thciic,  with  every 
oiher  circumstance  in  their  situation,    operated 


PREFACE.  7 

with  a  steady  and  certain  tendency,  to  preserve 
that  equality  and  Ireedom,  wliicli  nature  had 
made.  Tliis  spirit  of  freedom  was  in  some  de- 
gree checked  by  the  customary  interpositions  oi' 
royal  authority  :  But  these  were  too  irrci^ular 
and  contradictorv,  to  become  matters  of  ^•cnera- 
tion,  to  alter  the  natural  ieelinsi^s  of  men,  or  to 
chaniifc  the  natural  course  and  tcndencv  of  thinii's  : 
And  while  the  ministers  of  king's  were  lookin_^ 
into  their  laws  and  records,  to  decide  what 
should  be  the  rights  of  men  in  the  colonies,  na- 
ture  was  establishing^  a  system  of  freedom  in^A- 
inerica,  which  they  rould  neither  comprehend  or 
discern.  The  American  Revolution  explained 
the  business  to  the  world,  and  served  to  confirm 
"what  nature  and  society  had  before  produced. 

Having  assumed  their  rank  amonq;  the  na- 
tions  of  tiie  earth,  the  states  of  America  now 
present  to  the  world  a  new  state  of  society  ; 
founded  on  principles,  containing  arrangements, 
and  producing  ejects,  not  visible  in  any  nation 
bcforco  The  uncommon  and  increasing  pros- 
perity which  has  attended  it,  has  ascertained  its 
spirit  and  tendency  :  Tiie  people  are  distinguish- 
ed by  the  spirit  of  inquiry,  industry,  economy? 
enterprise,  and  regularity  :  Th/C  government  is 
dependent  ui)on,  but  guides,  and  reverences  the 
people  :  And  the  ^\'hoIe  country  is  rapidly  in- 
creasing in  numbers,  extent,  wealth,  and  powcn 
The  higheeit  perfection  and  felicity,  which  man 
is  permitted  to  hope  for  in  the  present  life,  may 
rationally  be  expected  in  such  a  state  of  society  : 
And  it  becomes  of  course  the  object  of  uni\er- 
&al  inquiry  and  attention. 

To  represeiit  the  state  of  things  in  America 


ti     I 


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PREFACE. 


in  a  proper  light,  particular  accounts  of  each  part 
of  the  federal  union  seem  to  be  necessary  ;  and 
would  answer  other  valuable  purposes.  An  able 
historian,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Belknap,  has  obli- 
ged the  world  with  the  history  of  New  Hamp- 
shire. The  followinf^  treatise  is  designed  to 
describe  the  operations  of  nature  and  society,  in 
the  adjacent  state  of  Vermont.  This  is  the 
youngest  of  the  states,  an  iiiland  country,  and 
jiow  rapidly  clianging  from  a  vast  tract  of  un- 
cultivated wiklcrness,  to  numerous  and  exten- 
sive settlements.  In  this  stage  of  society,  in- 
dustr}^  and  economy  seem  to  produce  the  great- 
est effects,  in  the  shortest  periods  of  time. 

The  manner  in  which  the  work  has  been  ex- 
ecuted, I  am  apprehensive  will  require  much 
candour  in  the  reader.  In  the  variety  of  sub- 
jects which  have  come  under  contemplation,  I 
cannot  flatter  myself,  that  I  have  been  free  from 
errors  and  mistakes  :  And  the  reason  why  sev- 
eral of  the  subjects  are  so  imperfectly  consider- 
ed, was  because  I  had  not  the  ability  or  infor- 
mation to  state  them  otherwise. 

The  American  war  considered  with  respect 
to  its  causes,  operations,  or  effects,  presents  to 
our  view  some  of  tlie  most  important  events, 
which  have  taken  place  in  modern  times  :  But 
neither  of  these  particulars  can  be  comprehend- 
ed in  the  history  of  any  particular  state.  To 
give  such  an  imperfect  view  of  this  subject  as 
could  be  properly  contained  in  the  history  of 
Vermont,  did  not  appear  eligible.  No  further 
accounts  therefore  of  the  war,  are  inserted,  than 
what  appeared  necessary  to  explain  the  subject, 
which  I  had  more  particularly  in  view. 


1< 


PREFACE.  9 

The  controversies  which  took  place  between 
the  states  of  Vermont,  New  York,  and  New 
Hampshire,  were  of  the  most  dangerous  nature  ; 
and  they  were  agitated  for  a  while,  with  a  vio- 
lence greatly  unfavorable  to  the  peace  and  safety 
of  the  whole  union.  Most  of  the  wars  which 
have  taken  place  among  mankind,  have  been 
occasioned  by  disputes  respecting  territory  and 
jurisdiction  :  And  however  just  or  proper  it 
might  be  for  any  nation,  to  give  up  part  of  its 
territory  and  dominion  to  its  neighbours,  such 
a  sacrifice  was  scarcely  ever  made  without  com- 
pulsion and  force?  To  have  expected  New 
York  would  voluntarily  give  up  part  of  her  ter- 
ritory, when  the  decisions  of  the  king,  and  the 
law  were  in  her  favor,  was  to  expect  that  which 
is  never  done  by  any  sovereign  or  nation,  while 
they  have  power  to  prevent  it.  To  have  ex- 
pected the  people  of  Vermont  would  voluntarily 
submit  to  a  government,  which  set  aside  their 
titles  to  the  lands  which  they  had  purchased  of 
the  crown,  and  made  valuable  by  their  labours 
and  sufferings,  was  to  look  for  that,  which  no 
people  ever  ought  to  submit  to,  if  it  is  in  their 
power  to  avoid  it.  When  the  states  of  New- 
York,  New  Hampshire,  and  Vermont,  had  en- 
gaged in  a  controversy  of  this  kind,  it  was  more 
agreeable  to  the  course  of  human  affairs  to  ex- 
pect it  would  produce  a  civil  war,  than  to  look 
for  so  much  wisdom  and  moderation  among 
either  of  the  contending  parties,  as  to  prevent  it. 

In  relating  these  controversies,  I  have  felt  a 
constant  anxiety,  lest  I  should  misrepresent  the 
pi'oceedings  of  either  of  those  states.  I  had  not 
tile  interests  or  the  passions  which  those  pai'ties 

roL.  I.         A 


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10 


PREFACE. 


produced,  to  guard  against  ;  nor  am  T  appre- 
hensive that  prejudice  has  misled  me,  in  rela- 
ting any  of  those  matt:;rs.  But  it  is  not  improb- 
able that  I  have  not  had  compleat  information  in 
some  particulars,  respecting  those  complicated 
controversies  ;  and  may  have  mistaken  the  views 
of  parties,  in  some  of  their  leading  transactions^ 
If  this  should  be  found  to  be  the  case,  it  vvJl 
give  me  great  pleasure  to  receive  such  further 
information,  as  shall  enable  me  to  correct  any 
mistakes.  Those  who  point  out  to  us  our  ci  rors, 
perform  the  same  friendly  offic"^,  as  those  who 
help  us  to  new  truths. 

Th  e  most  important  of  all  our  philosophical 
speculations,  are  those  which  relate  to  the  histo- 
ry of  man.  In  most  of  the  productions  of  na- 
ture, the  subject  is  fixed,  and  may  always  be 
found  and  viewed  in  the  same  situation.  And 
hence  a  steady  course  of  observation,  serves  to 
discover  and  ascertain  the  laws  by  which  they 
are  governed,  and  the  situation  they  will  assume 
in  other  periods  of  time.  It  is  probable  the  ac- 
tions and  affairs  of  men  are  subject  to  as  regu- 
lar and  Uniform  laws,  as  other  events  :  And  that 
the  same  state  of  society  will  produce  the  same 
forms  of  government,  the  same  manners,  cus- 
toms, habits,  and  pursuits,  among  different  na- 
tions, in  whatever  part  of  the  earth  they  may  re- 
side. Monarchy,  freedom,  superstition,  truth 
and  all  the  general  causes  which  actuate  man- 
kind, seem  every  where  to  bear  the  same  aspect, 
to  operate  with  the  same  kind  of  influence,  and 
to  produce  similar  effects  ;  differing  not  in  their 
nature  and  tendency,  but  only  in  the  circum- 
stances and  degrees,  in  which  they  influence  dif- 


PREFACE. 


11 


ferent  nations.     But  nothinjj  is  stationary,  noth- 
ing  tlut  depends  upon  the  social  state,  is  so  un- 
alterably fixed,  but  that  it  will  change  and  vary 
with  the  degrad  ition  or  improvement  of  the  hu- 
man race.     And  hence,  whiij  the  nature  of  man 
remains  unaltered,  the  state  of  society  is  per- 
petually changingj  and  the  men  of  one  age  and 
country,  in  many  respects  appear  different  from 
those  of  another.     And  as  men  themselves  are 
more  or  less  improved,  every  thing  that  consti- 
tutes a  part  of  the  social  state,  will  bear  a  differ- 
ent appearance  among  different   nations,  and  in 
the  same  nation  in  different  circumstances,  and 
in  different  periods  of  time.     To  ascertain  what 
there  is  thus  peculiar  and  distinguishing  in  the 
state  of  society  in  the  Federal  Union,  to  explain 
the  causes  which  have  led  to  this  state,  to  mark 
its  effect  upon  human  happiness,  and  to  deduce 
Improvement  from  the  whole,  are  the  most  im- 
portant objects  which  civil  history  can  contem* 
plate  in  America  :  And  they  are  objects,  every 
where  more  useful  to  men,  than  any  refinements, 
distinctions,  or  discoveries,  merely  speculative. 
I  have   wished  to  keep  such  objects  in  view, 
in  considering  the  state  of  society  in  this  part  of 
the  continent  :  But  it  is  with  diffidence  that  I 
submit  the  attempt  to  the  view  of  the  public.^ 
The  disposition  of  America  is  to  favor  such  at- 
tempts and  publications,  as  are  adapted  to  pro- 
mote any  valuable  public  purpose  :  But  specu- 
lative and   useless  essays  cannot  much  engage 
the  attention  of  a  people,  whose  main  object  is 
the  prosperity  and  improvement  of  their  country. 
The  public  sentiment  will  be  a  just  decision,  a- 
mong  which  of  these,  the  following  work  ought 
t;o  be  placed. 


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S    .    ! 


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ADVERTISEMENT 


TO     THE 


SECOND     EDITION. 


\^^\/^'/^^y^^^^ 


THE  Booksellers  have  desired  me  to 
prepare  the  History  of  Vermont  for  another  edi- 
tion. The  favorable  reception  which  the  pub- 
lic gave  to  the  work,  has  lead  me  to  wish  to 
make  it  more  perfect  ;  and  my  friends  have 
su.a^gested  that  it  would  be  of  use  to  insert  a 
more  particular  account  of  the  Wars^  which 
have  taken  place  in  this  part  of  the  continent. 
From  the  earliest  settlement  of  the  English  and 
French  coloni. s,  contests  arose,  which  gave  rise 
to  a  course  of  such  events.  The  passage  from 
the  one  country  to  the  other,  lay  through  lake 
Champlain,  This  circunistance  rendered  this 
part  of  the  country  the  field  c)f  ho^,tiIe  opera- 
tions, and  blood)'  campaigns.  I  have  endeavor- 
ed to  collect  an  account  of  these  transactions  ; 
but  have  not  had  all  the  advantages  of  authentic 
documents  and  public  libraries,  to  make  these 
researches  so  compleat  as  I  wished.  In  making 
these  collections,  and  some  necessary  additions 
to  the  natural  and  civil  history  of  the  State,  the 
sizes  of  the  papers  ijicreased  so  much  beyond 
•what  I  expected,  that  it  was  thought  best  to 
publish  them  in  two  volumes. 

In  the  narrations,   the  reader  v.ill  fmd  a  mi- 

luteness  of  dates,   facts,  and  cucumstances,  not 

common   in  European  productions  ;    and   not 

very  cnti?rtaining  in  itself.     This  method  was. 


1  ' 


ADVERTISEMENT,  &c. 


n 


adopted  with  choice,  and  by  design.  Persuaded 
that  the  American  commonweahh  is  yet  in  the 
early  years  of  its  infancy,  and  unable  to  compre- 
hend  to  what  extent,  magnitude,  and  dignity  it 
may  arise  ;  the  author  of  these  sheets  views  the 
histojy  of  a  particular  state,  rather  as  a  collection 
of"  facts,  circLi  mstances,  and  records,  than  as  a  com- 
pleat  and  finished  historical  production.  The  more 
important  the  Ujiited  States  shall  become  in  the 
future  periods  of  time,  of  the  more  importance 
it  will  be  to  be  able  to  find  a  minute  and  au- 
thentic account  of  the  facts,  proceedings*  and 
tiansactions,  from  whence  the  grand  fabric  arose. 
To  collect  and  record  such  facts  and  proceed- 
ings, so  far  as  they  relate  to  this  part  of  the 
country,  is  what  1  have  attempted.  It  gave  me 
pleasure  to  find  that  the  first  essay  was  not 
vievv<|Ll  in  an  unfavorable  light  by  the  people  of 
Vermont  ;*  and  I  entertain  the  hope  that  Avhat 
is  now  offered  to  the  public,  will  meet  with  their 
approbation. 
July  4,  1807. 


'i 


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I 


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'■^ 


H 


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*  Letter  from  the  Speaker  of  the  General  Assembly,  to  the  Author  of. 
the  History  of  Vermont. 

Windsor,  Oct.  12,1795. 
Sir, 

THE  Representatives  of  the  People  entertain  a  lively  sense  of 
your  polite  attention,  b)  resenting  them  your  Naturaland  Civil  History 
of  Vermont ;  and  of  the  service  you  have  rendered  your  country,  by  ad- 
ding to  the  republic  of  letters  so  valuable  a  book. 

1  am  directed,  Sir,  by  them  to  rtturn  you  their  thanks,  with  their  sin- 
cere wishes,  that  your  labor  in  this  work,  may  prove  as  bencticial  to  your* 
self,  as  it  mutt  be  useful  to  your  fellow  citizens. 

lam,  Sir, with  great  respect  and  esteem, 
Your  most  obedient  servant, 

L.  R.  MORRIS,  Speaks: 
The  Rev.  Or.  Samuel  Wiluaus,  L.  L.  D. 


r 


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If 

. 

fl 


.     CONTENtS. 

©ofeooo 

CHAPTKR     I. 

SiTiTATlow,   Boundaries,  Area,   Soily    and 
Face  of  the  Country. 

CHAPIKR      ir. 
MoirNTAifirs.... Their  Direction,    Altitude, 
Tops,  Caverns f  the  origin  of  Springs  and 
Htvers, 

CHAPTER    III. 
Rivers  AND  Lakes..., 7%^  Situation,  Chan- 
nels, Jht(*rvales,  Courses,  Depths,  (tnd  Ef- 
fects of  the  Rivers.     An  account  of  Lake 
Champlaini  and  Memphremdgog, 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Climate...  ,An  account  of  the  Temp  erature, 
JVinds,  Rain,  S?iow,  and  Weather.  The 
change  of  Climate  -which  has  attended  the 
cultivation  of  the  Country, 

CHAPTER      V. 

Vegetable  Productions.. ./br^5#  TreeSy 
Esculent  and  Medicinal  Vegetables.     Re- 
marks on   the  Magnitude,  Number,  Age^ 
Evaporation,  Emission  of  Airy  Heat^  and 
Effects  of  the  Trees. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

Native  Am  lU  Kt'i...  An  account  of  the  Qua- 
drupeds ;  with  observations  on  their  Enu- 
meration, Origin,  Migration,  Species, 
Magnitude,  Disposition,  and  multiplying 
Poxver.  The  Birds^  Fishes,  Reptiles^  ami 
fnsectS' 


21 


26 


39 


S% 


81 


98 


fe:: 


I 


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fi 


16 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VTI. 

Original  lNHABiTANTs....77ze  Employ- 
ments^ Civil  Government,  St/stem  of  IFar, 
Mducation,  Manners^  ami  Customs  of  the 
Jndians  ;  the  Aclvanta^es^  and  Disadvan- 
tages  of  the  Savage  State, 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

Original  lNHABiTANTs....O^*^n;rt^iow* 
on  the  origin  of  the  Indians,  their  Antiqui' 
ty,  progress  of  Society^  and  tendency  to 
Dissolution. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

First  Settlements  and  Wars  with 
THE  \th Di A'^ s.. ..Discoveries  and  settle- 
ments  in  their  country  by  the  French, 
Origin  and  progress  of  War  between  the 
Natives  and  the  Europeans.  Influence  of 
the  Priests.  French  Expeditions.  Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Governor  of  New  York. 
Destruction  of  Montreal  by  the  Iroquoise. 
From  the  year  1535,  to  1689. 
CHAPTER  X. 

"W AR.... The flrst  JFar  between  the  English 
and  French  Colonies,  assisted  by  the  In- 
dians ;  from,  the  year  1689  to  1750.  Ef- 
fect of  the  Revolution  i?i  favor  of  TVil- 
Ham  and  Mary.  Plans  of  the  French. 
Destruction  in  New  Hampshire,  £s?  Sche- 
nectady. First  attempt  to  reduce  Cana- 
da. Sentime7its  of  the  Indians  on  that 
occasion.  French  Expedition  against  the 
Mohawks.  Destruction  of  Decrfield.  Se- 
cond Expedition  against  Canada.  Pro- 
ceedings of  Schuyler.     Third  attempt  to 


F«g«. 


160 


225 


251 


CONTENTS. 


Proceedings  at  Csxvego 


11 


Page. 


Buildings  and  sctu'c- 


reduce  Canada, 
and  Lake  Ontario. 

ment  at   Fort   St.   Frederick  at  Crown 
Point.      Capture  of  Fort  Massachusetts. 
Proposed  expedition  against  Crown  Point. 
Attempt  upon  the  Fort  at  Charlestoxvn.      287 
CHAPrEH    XI. 

War From  the  year   1750,    to   1757. 

Conferences  at  Paris.  Measures  of  the 
French.  Fmbassy  and  defeat  of  JVash- 
ington.  Views  of  the  English  and  French 
colonies.  Congress  and  plan  of  Union  at 
Albany.  Coimcil  of  Generals  and  Gover- 
nors at  Alexandria.  Expedition  and  de- 
feat of  Braddock.  Success  of  Monckton 
and  Winslow^  in  JVova  Scotia.  Proposed 
Expedition  to  Niagara.  Proceedings  of 
Baron  Dieskau  at  Lake  Champlain.  Vic- 
tory of  Johnson  at  Lake  George.  Ter- 
mination of  the  campaigns  of  1755.  Mil- 
itary arrangements  of  the  British  ministry 
in  1756.  Capture  of  Oswego  by  Mont- 
calm. Inactivity  of  the  Earl  of  Loudon.  2>3^ 
CHAPTER  XII. 

V^  AR.... Progress  and  events  of  the  War  in 
the  years  1757  and  1758.  Loudon''s  pre- 
parations for  the  campaign.  Montcalni's 
measures  with  the  India jis.  Designs  upon 
tiie  English.  Putnam^ s  account  oj  fVchb^s 
proceedings.  Conquest  of  Fort  William 
Henry.  Savage  massacre  of  the  prison- 
ers. Refections  on  Montcalm's  conduct. 
Result  of  the  campaign  in  1757.  Change 
of  the  British  councils  and  ministry. 
■^  9L.    J.  B 


ii, 


i. 


'[^ 


\' 


) ' 


'  i 


i.i 


Id 


CONTENTS. 


Cotif/uest  of  Louisbovr^.  Abercrombie^s 
attempt  and  defeat  at  Ticonderoga.  Cap- 
ture of  fort  Frontcnac  by  Bradstreet. 
Of  Fort  Du  Quesne  by  Forbes.  Amherst 
assumes  the  command, 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

1^/^  A  R....  Progress  and  events  of  the  fFar  in 
the  years  1759  atid  1760.  Pian  of  the 
campaign  for  1759.  Conquest  ofQuebee, 
by  general  JVolfs.  Capture  of  Ticonde- 
roga  and  Crown  Point  by  general  Am- 
herst. Expedition  against  the  Lidian 
village  of  St.  Francois  by  major  Rogers, 
Proceedings  on  Lake  Champlain.  Cap- 
ture of  Niagara  by  general  Johnson, 
Reflections  on  the  campaign  of  1759. 
Measures  of  Vaudrieul  at  Montreal,  in 
1760.  Plan  and  proceedings  of  general 
Amherst,  General  Murray^s  defeat  at 
Quebec^  and  arrival  at  Montreal.  Havi- 
la7id\s  arrival  at  the  river  St.  Lawrence. 
Capitulation  and  surrender  of  Canada  to 
general  Amherst.  Refections  on  the 
origin  of  these  JVars.  Their  ej^ects  on 
the  morals,   literature,  population,  settle- 

'   pient,  and  political  statt  of  the  colonies. 


Pa|C. 


379 


41t 


CONTENTS. 
APPENDIX. 

No.  I. 

An  account  of  the  variation  of  the  Maffnetic 
Needle  in  the  Eastern  States. 


15 


Tilt. 


475 


No.   II. 

Observations  on  the  change  of  climate  in  Eii- 
rope  and  other  places,  475 

No.  III. 
An  account  of  Frogs  dug  out  of  the  earth  at 
Burlington*  47^ 

No.  IV. 

Observations  on  the  fascinating  power  of 
Serpents,  483 

No.  V. 
A  dissertation  on  the  colours  of  men.,  parti- 
cularly on  that  of  the  Indians  of  America,  493 

No.   VI. 

Garrangula*s  Speech.     Aspecimenof 
Lidian  policy^  eloquenccy  and  manners,         503 

No.    VII. 

Monument  of  Lord  Viscount   Howe,    in 
Westminster  Abbey.  ■  505 

No.  VIII. 
Monument  erected  to  the  memory  ef  Gener- 
al Wolfe,  in  JVestminster  Abbey.  505 

No.   IX. 
Inscription  on  the  tomb  of  the  Margui^iyi. 
Montcalm,  at  Quebec,  506 


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THE 
KATURAL   AND    CIVIL 

HISTORY  OP  VERMONT, 

CHAPTER    I. 

Situation,    Boundaries,    Area,    Soil,  and  Fad 
of  the   Country. 

THE  State  of  Vermont  Is  situated  be- 
tween 42  degrees  44  minutes,  and  45  degrees 
of  north  latitude  ;  and  between  1  degree  43 
minutes,  and  3  degrees  36  minutes  of  longitude, 
east  from  the  meridian  of  Philadelphia.  It  is 
altogether  an  inland  country  ;  surrounded  by 
the  States  of  Newhampshire,  Massachusetts, 
Newyork,  and  the  Province  of  Canada.  That 
part  of  the  State  of  Vermont  which  is  nearest 
to  the  sea  coast,  is  at  the  distance  of  seventy  or 
eighty  miles,  from  any  part  of  the  ocean. 

On  the  south,  Vermont  is  bounded  by  the 
state  of  Massachusetts.  This  line  is  forty  one 
miles  in  lengdi,  and  was  a  part  of  the  divisional 
line  between  Massachusetts  and  Newhampshire. 
It  was  derived  from  the  decision  of  a  former 
King  of  Great  Britain.  On  March  5,  1740, 
George  the  second,  resolved,  "  That  the  nor- 
thern boundarv  of  the  Province  of  Massachu- 
setts,  be  a  similar  curve  line,  pursuing  the  course 
of  Merrimack  river,  at  three  miles  distance,  on 
tlie  north  side  thereof,  beginning  at  the  Atlantic 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


ocean,  and  endinf^  at  a  point  due  north  of  Pa- 
tuck^t  lulls  ;  m\d  a  straight  line  drawn  thence 
due  west,  until  it  meets  with  his  Miijesty's  oth- 
er jj;ovenH]ien!.b."  The  point  three  miles  north 
ol"  Pi'tiicket  falls,  was  found  to  be  in  the  toivn 
of  Driicnt.  From  that  point,  the  surveyor, 
llich.'ird  Iliizcn,  in  the  months  of  February  and 
March,  1741,  ran  the  divisional  line  between 
MasJiachu setts  and  Newhampshire.  He  was 
directed  by  Mr.  Belcher,  at  that  time  governor 
of  both  those  i>rovinces,  to  allow  ten  degrees 
for  tlie  westerly  variation  of  the  magnetic  nee- 
dle. The  magnetic  variation,  at  that  time  and 
place,  was  not  so  great,  as  the  surveyor  assum- 
ed :  iViid  when  he  arrived  at  Connecticut  river, 
a  distance  of  fifty  five  miles,  instead  of  being  in 
a  \vest  line,  he  had  dc\  iated  to  the  north  2  min- 
utes 57  seconds  of  latitude.  This  error  in  the 
direction  of  the  line,  occasions  a  loss  of  59,873 
acres  to  Newhampshire  ;  and  of  133,897  acres 
to  Vermont.* 

The  eastern  boundary  of  Vermont,  is  form- 
ed b}'  the  west  bank  of  Connecticut  river. 
Tins  line,  following  tlie  course  of  the  river,  is 
about  t\\  o  hundred  miles  ;  and  is  derived  from 
the  decree  of  George  the  third.  On  the  20th 
of  July,  1764,  his  Majesty  ordered  and  declared, 
*'  The  western  banks  of  the  river  Connecticut, 
from  w  here  it  enters  the  Province  of  Massachu- 
setts Bay,  as  far  north  as  the  forty  fifth  degree 
of  northern  latitude,  to  be  the  boundary  line  bc- 
t\\  een  the  two  Provinces  of  Newhampshire  and 
Newvork." 

The  nordi  line  of  the  State  begins  at  the  lat- 

♦Appendix  No.  I, 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


25 


itiidc  of  45  dc,^ees  north,  and  runs  upon  tliat 
parallel,  from  Lake  Champlain  to  Connecticut 
river.     This  line  is  ninety  miles  and  one  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  long,  and  divides  this  part  of  the 
United    States  from  the  Province  of  Canada. 
Much   pains  was  taken   by  the  Provinces    of 
Newyork  and  Canada,  to  ascertain  the  latitude 
of  45  by  astronomical  obscrvation$.     This  was 
done  by  commissioners  from  both  Provinces,  in 
the  month  of  September,  17G7.     At  the  place 
where  the  line   crosses  Lake  Champlain,  they 
erected  a  monument  of  stone,  which   is   yet 
standing.     The  line  was  afterwards  run  in  tlie 
year  1772  by    L  Carden  and   L  Collins  of  Que- 
bec, but  with  great  error.     By  order  of  Go\er- 
Tior  Tichenor,  in  1806,  I  examined  the  situation 
of  this  line  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  state.     By 
astronomical    observations   I   found    the    mo- 
nument  they  had  erected  on  the  eastern  banlc 
of  lake  Memphremagog,  was  in  the  latitude  of 
44  degrees   53  minutes   46  seconds ;    and    at 
Connecticut  river,  their  monument  was  in  tlie 
latitude  of  44  degrees  47  minutes   59  seconds. 
Admitting  their  line  to  have   been  run  in  a 
straight  course,  this   would  imply   an  error  of 
8  degrees   52  minutes   19  .seconds  in  thr-  direc- 
tion ;    and   occasions  the  loss  to   Vermont  of 
401973   and  an  half  acres  of  land ;   equal  to 
17    44-lOOths   townships.       The    direction    of 
Connecticut  river  is  from  the  northeast,  and  on 
that  account  if  the  divisional  line  was  continued 
on  the  parallel  of  45  degrees  till  it  intersected 
the  river,  one  or  two  more  townships  of  land 
would  accrue    to  Vermont.     This  line  ariseth 
from  the  proclamatioa  of  George  the  third,  of 


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24 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


October  7,  1763,  determining  the  southerrt 
boundary  of  the  province  of  Quebec ;  and  jrom 
the  treaty  of  peace  between  Britain  and  the 
States  of  America,  in  1783.      ^  ' 

Beginning  at  the  southwest  comer  of  the 
town  of  Pownal,  the  wesi,  line  of  Vermont  runs 
northerly,  along  the  western  boundaries  of  the 
townships  of  Pownal,  Bennington,  Shaftsbury, 
Arlington,  Sandgate,  Rupert,  Pawlet,  Wells, 
and  Poultney,  as  the  said  townships  are  now 
held  and  possessed,  to  the  river  commonly  caU 
led  Poultney  river  ;  thence  down  the  same, 
through  the  middle  of  the  deepest  channel  there- 
of, to  East  Bay  ;  thence  through  the  middle  of 
the  deepest  channel  of  East  Bay,  and  the  waters 
thereof,  to  where  the  same  communicate  with 
Lake  Champlain  ;  thence  through  the  middle 
of  the  deepest  channel  of  Lake  Champlain,  to 
the  eastward  of  the  islands  called  the  Four 
Brothers,  and  to  the  westward  of  the  Islands 
called  the  Grand  Isle,  and  Long  Isle,  or  the  Two 
Heroes,  and  to  the  westward  of  the  Isle  la  Mott, 
to  tlie  forty  fifth  degree  of  north  latitude.  This 
line  is  about  one  hundred  and  seventy  miles  in 
length  ;  and  results  from  the  declaration  of  the 
commissioners  of  ^J^Jewyork,  of  October  7, 
1790  ;  and  the  concurring  apt  of  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  State  of  Vermont,  passed  Oc- 
tober 28,  1790,  i 

Computing  by  the  latifude?,  the  length  of  the 
State  from  the  southern  to  the  northern  bounda- 
ry, is  one  hundred  and  fifty  seven  miles  and  an 
half.  The  mean  width  from  east  to  west  is  a- 
bout  sixty  five  miles.  This  will  give  10,237 
and  an  half  square  miles,  or  6,552,000  acres,  ai 


in  1< 


4 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT. 


25 


the  superficial  area  contained  within  the  boun- 
daries of  Vermont ;  but  a  considerable  deduc- 
tion must  be  made,  to  exclude  the  waters,  and 
reduce  it  to  the  just  quantity  of  land. 

The  land  included  within  these  limits,  is  of  a 
very  fertile  nature,  fitted  for  all  the  purposes  and 
productions  of  agriculture.  The  soil  is  deep, 
and  of  a  dark  colour ;  rich,  moist,  warm,  and 
loamy.  It  bears  corn  and  other  kinds  of  grain, 
in  large  quantities,  as  soon  as  it  is  cleared  of  the 
wood,  without  any  ploughing  or  preparation  ; 
And  after  the  first  crops,  naturally  tunis  to  rich 
pasture  or  mowing. 

The  face  of  the  country  exhibits  very  differ- 
ent prospects.  Adjoining  to  our  rivers,  wc 
have  the  wide  extensive  plains,  of  a  fine  level 
country.  At  a  small  distance  from  them,  the 
land  rises  into  a  collection  and  chain  of  high 
mountains,  intersected  with  deep  and  long  val- 
lies.  Descending  from  the  mountains,  the 
streams  and  rivers  appear  in  every  part  of  the 
country,  and  afford  a  plentiful  supply  of  ^^ter. 


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26 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


'  CHAPTER     II. 

M  0 17  N  T  A I N  s .  -  -  -  T/z^fr  Direction ,  Altitude  ^  TopSy 
CavernSy  the  Origin  of  Springs  and  Rivers* 


IN  the  formation  of  our  mountains,  na- 
ture has  constructed  her  works  on  a  large  scale  ; 
and  presents  to  our  vi*"  ;v  objects,  whose  magni- 
tude and  situation,  naturally  engage  our  atten- 
tion.     Through   the   whole  tract   of  country 
which  lies  between  the  west  side  of  Connecti- 
cut river,  and  the  east  side  of  Hudson's  river, 
and  Lake   Champlain,  there  is   one    continued 
range  of  mountains.     These  mountains  begin 
in  the  Province  of  Canada  :  From  thence,  they 
extend  through  the  States  of  Vermont,  Massa- 
chusetts, and^  Connecticut,  and  terminate  within 
a  few  miles  of  the  sea  coast.     Their  general  di- 
rection is  from  N.  N.  E.  to  S.  S.    W.    and 
their  extent  is  through  a  tract  of  country,  not 
less  than  four  hundred  miles  in  length.     They 
are  one  continued  range  or  collection  of  moun- 
tains, appearing  as  if  they  were   piled  one  upon 
another.     They  are  generally  from  ten  to  fifteen 
miles  in  width,  are  much  intersected  with  val- 
lies,  abound  with  springs,  and  streams  of  water, 
and  are  every  where  covered  with  woods.  Their 
appearance,   is  among  the  most  grand  and  ma- 
jestic phenomena,  which  nature  exhibits.     From 
the  perpetual   verdure  which  they  exhibit,  they 
are   called   the  Green   Mountains  ;    and  with 
great  propriety  their  name  has  been  assigned  to 
the  State. 


i  1. 


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HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.        27 

The  altitude  of  mountains,  has  been  one  of 
the  curious  inquiries,  which  the  j)liilosophers  of 
this  century  have  been  solicitous  to  determine. 
The  most  common  method  of  measuring'  their 
heights,  has  been  by  the  Barometer.  I  do  not 
know  tliat  in  many  cases,  a  better  method  could 
ha\'e  been  applied.  The  tlieory  however  of 
this,  is  not  attended  with  certainty,  or  precision  : 
And  in  its  application,  it  has  generally  given 
very  different  altitudes,  to  the  same  mountain. 
Geometrical  mensurations  admit  of  greater  cer- 
tainty and  simplicity,  where  they  can  be  appli- 
ed :  But  the  difiiculty  and  expence  of  making; 
such  mensurations,  liavc  prevented  any  great 
progress  from  being  made,  in  this  part  of  the 
natural  history  of  the  eailh.  In  North  Ameri- 
ca, the  height  of  most  of  our  mountains,  re- 
mains yet  to  be  determined.  In  Deccniljcr, 
1 792,  I  attempted  to  ascertain  the  altitude  of 
Kellington  Peak,  one  of  the  highest  of  the  green 
mountains,  by  a  geometrical  process  ;  and  had 
the  happiness  to  succeed  in  the  mensuration. 
The  measures  stood  thus, 

Height   of  Kellington  Peak   ab.ove  the     Feet. 
plain  at  the  State  Uouse  in  Rutland, 
by  geometrical  mensuration,      -      -       2813 
Height  of  the  State  House  above  the  \va- 
ters   of    Lake    Champlain,    deduced 
from  the    mensuration  of  the  falls  of 
Otter  Creek,   and  a  computation  of 
other  descentr,         -         -         -         -        ."71 
Descent  of  the  water  from  that  ]:)art  of 
Lake  Champlain  where  the  current  be- 
gins, to  St.  John's,    a  distance  of  fifty 
•     miles,  estimated  at  12  iiieiies  to  a  mile,         50 


.  ■  I 


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NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


Falls  between  St.  John's  and  Chamble, 

estimated,  .         -         -         -  40 

Descent  of  the  water  from  the  bason  of 
Chamble  to  Quebec,  a  distance  of  one 
hundred  and  eighty  miles,     estimated 
at  twelve  inches  to  a  mile,         -         -       180 
Admittin,^  the  waters  of  the  river  St.  Law- 
rence at  Quebec,  to  be  of  the  same  level  as  the 
sea,  the  altitude  of  Kellington  Peak,  by  these 
measures  and  computations,  is  3454  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  ocean.     The  altitude  at  which 
a  perpetual  congelation  takes  place  in  this  lati- 
tude  (43  degrees  30  minutes)  is  about   8066 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.     This  is  proba« 
bly  lour  fifLhs  of  a  mile  higher  than  the  tops  of 
our  highest  mountains.*    But  although   they 


*  Mount  Bb.nc  in  Savoy,  is  the  liighcst  mountain  in  Europe,  and 
probably  tlie  highest  in  the  other  hemisphere.  In  1 7 87  its  altitude  wa» 
found  by  M,  de  Saussure  to  be  15,67,'^  English  feet  above  tlie  level  of 
the  sea.  In  the  southern  parts  of  America,  M.  Bouguer  found  the  high- 
est part  of  the  Cordilleras,  to  be  20,590  feet  in  height ;  this  is  the  high- 
est ofaay  upon  the  globe.  In  Virginia,  according  to  Mr.  Jefrcrson,the 
mountains  of  the  Blue  ridge,  and  of  these  the  Peaks  of  Otter,  are  thought 
to  be  of  the  grf  atcst  height,  measured  from  their  base.  "  From  data," 
•aith  he,  "  which  may  found  a  tolerable  conjecture,  we  suppose  the 
highest  peak  to  be  about  4000  feet  perpendicular."  (  Notes  on  Virginia, 
Pfcila.  Edit.  p.  18.)  The  white  mountain!  in  the  northeasterly  part  of 
Newhampshire,  are  generally  esteemed  to  be  the  highest  lands  in  New- 
«ng!and.  Their  altitude  has  not  been  determined  by  geometrical  men- 
luration,  but  there  is  one  circumstance  attending  their  phenomena, 
which  may  serve  to  denote  their  altitude,  with  much  probability.  From 
the  observations  which  have  beea  made  of  their  tops,  it  appears  thatthe 
altitude  of  the  highest  of  the  white  mountains,  is  below  the  point  of 
perpetual  congelation.  On  June  19,  1774,  on  the  south  side,  in  one  of 
the  gulIies,the»now  was  live  feet  deep.  On  September  1, 1783,  the  top* 
ef  the  mounta''n  was  covered  with  ice  and  snow,  newly  formed.  In  1 784, 
snow  was  seen  on  the  south  side  of  tlie  largest  mountain,until  July  I2th. 
In  1 790,  the  snow  lay  until  the  month  of  August.  In  general, the  moun- 
tain begins  to  be  covered  with  snow  as  early  as  September ;  but  it  goes  off 
again,  and  seldom  becomes  fixed  until  the  end  of  October,  or  the  begin- 
ning of  Novcmbef :  But  from  that  time,  it  remains  until  July.  (Belknap's 
Hist.  Newhampshire,  3. 46,47,)  From  these  observations  it  is  apparent, 
that  the  white  mountains  rise  nearly  to  the  line  of  perpetual  congelation 
in  that  latitude,  but  do  not  fully  come  up  to  it.  These  mountains  are  in 
the  latitude  of  44  degrees  15  minutes  north.  The  line  of  perpetual  conge- 
}«Uou  ia  tliat  latitude,  a»  deduced  from  the  observatiout  which  bare  bcea 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


29 


afe  far  below  the  freezing  point  in  summer, 
their  phenomena  and  productions  are  very  much 
affected  by  the  degrcxi  of  cold,  to  \\  hich  they 
are  constantlv  exposed. 

The  tops  of  our  mountains  are  generally 
composed  of  rocks,  covered  over  with  moss. 
The  trees  appear  to  be  very  aged,  but  they  are 
of  a  small  size  ;  and  all  of  them  are  of  the  spe- 
cies called  evergreens  ;  pine,  spruce,  hemlock 
and  fir  ;  intermixed  with  shrubs  and  bushes. 
The  powers  of  vegetation  regularly  diminish,  as 
we  approach  the  summit  of  an  high  mountain  ; 
the  trees  degenerate  in  their  dimensions,  and 
frequently  terminate  in  a  shrubbery  of  spruce 
and  hemlock,  two  or  three  feet  high  ;  whose 
branches  are  so  interwoven  and  knit  together j 
as  to  prevent  our  passing  between  them.  Trees 
thus  diminished,  with  shrubs  and  vines  bearing 
different  berries,  and  a  species  of  grass  called 
winter  grass,  mixed  with  the  moss  of  the  rocks, 
are  all  the  vegetable  productions,  which  nature 
brings  forth  on  the  tops  of  our  highest  moun- 
tains. '  ■'■■  ■■  ■:,':'■  ■     iiJtii- '. 

The  sides  of  our  mountains  are  generally 
very  irreglilar,  and  rough  ;  and  some  of  them 
appear  to  have  large  apertures,  or  openings  a- 
mong  the  rocks.  Among  these  subterraneous 
passages,  some  caverns  of  a  considerable  extent 
have  befen  found.  One  of  these  is  at  Claren- 
don, on  the  southeast  side  of  a  mountain,  in  the 

made  in  Europe,  is  787a  feet  above  the  level  of  the  «ca.  From  the  greater 
coldness  of  the  American  climate, the  point  of  perpetual  congelation  in  a 
iimilar  American  latitude,  cannot  exceed,  but  must  rather  fall  somct  111115 
•hprt  of  this.  The  altitude  therefore  of  the  whjte  mountains,  cannot  b* 
estimated  as  more  than  7  800  feet  above  the  level  of  the  ocean;  and  thi* 
is  probably  tbe  HlUtadc  of  chc  bigbest  mountaius  in  tbc  aAtrtein  states. 

D 


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NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


uestcrly  part  of  the  town.  The  month  of  the 
cave  is  not  more  than  two  and  an  half  feet  in 
diameter.  In  its  descent,  the  passage  makes 
an  angle  with  the  horizon  of  35  or  40  degrees  ; 
Lilt  continues  of  nearly  the  same  diameter, 
through  the  whole  length,  which  is  thirty  one 
feet  and  an  hall\— At  that  distance  from  the 
inouth,  it  opens  into  a  spacious  room  ;  twenty 
feet  long,  twelve  feet  and  an  half  wide,  and  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  feet  high.  Every  part  of  the 
floor,  sides,  and  roof  of  this  room,  appear  to  be 
a  solid  rock,  but  very  rough  and  uneven.  The 
water  is  continually  percolating  through  the  top, 
and  has  formed  stalactites  of  various  forms; 
many  of  w^hich  arc  conical,  and  some  have  the 
appearance  of  massive  columns.— At  the  north 
part  of  this  room,  there  is  another  aperture  of 
about  forty  inches  diameter,  very  rough  and 
uneven.  This  aperture  is  the  beginning  of  an- 
other passage,  through  the  internal  parts  of  a 
solid  rock  :  The  direction  of  this  passage  is 
oblique,  and  full  of  stops  or  notches,  and  its 
length  about  twenty  four  feet.  Descendiiig 
through  this  aperture,  another  spacious  room 
opens  to  view\  The  dimensions  of  this  apart- 
ment are  twenty  feet  in  width,  tliirty  in  length, 
and  twenty  in  height.  In  the  spring  of  the  year, 
the  w  hole  of  this  lower  room  is  fuJi  of  water  ; 
and  at  all  other  seasons,  water  is  to  be  found  ii> 
the  lower  parts  of  it.— No  animal  has  been 
found  to  reside  in  this  cave,  and  it  evidently 
appears  to  be  the  production  of  nature,  untouch- 
ed by  the  hand  of  man.- --Another  of  these  cav- 
erns is  at  Danby,  and  a  third  at  Dorset.  These 
are  said  to  be  more  curious  than  this  at  Claren- 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


"» 


31 


don,  but  they  have  not  been  properly  explored. 
There  are  others  in  ditt'erent  parts  of*  the  state  : 
All  of  them  are  the  {genuine  productions  of  na- 
ture ;  never  altered  by  art,  and  never  inhabited 
by  any  of  the  human  race. 

One  of  the  most  curious  and  important  oper- 
ations which  nature  carries  on  in  the  moimtains, 
is  the  formation  of  springs  and  rivers.  All  our 
streams  of  water  in  Vermont,  ha\'e  their  rise  a- 
mong  the  green  mountains  :  From  a  number 
of  these  uniting,  are  formed  all  those  brooks 
and  rivers,  which  run  in  different  directions 
through  the  various  parts  of  the  country  :  And 
in  general,  the  origin  of  rivers  is  to  be  found  in 
the  mountains,  or  high  lands.  In  what  manner 
do  the  mountams  serve  to  produce  these  effects  ? 
And  whence  is  it,  that  the  highest  mountains 
attract,  collect,  become  the  reservoirs,  the  re- 
ceptacles, or  the  source,  of  the  largest  and  most 
constant  collections  of  water  ?  One  part  of  this 
effect,  seems  to  be  derived  from  the  constant 
ascent  of  the  waters,  from  the  bowels  to  the 
surface  of  the  earth.  That  water  is  contained 
in  large  quantities  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  is 
evident  from  the  springs  which  are  found  in  al- 
most all  declivities  ;  and  from  those  which  ev- 
ery where  supply  wells,  at  the  depth  of  twenty 
or  thirty  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
That  these  waters  are  constantly  ascending  to- 
wards the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  going  off  in- 
to the  atmosphere,  is  evident  from  the  evapora- 
tion which  is  constantly  taking  place,  and  from 
the  manner  in  which  heat,  or  as  it  is  generally 
expressed,  a  drought  affects  both  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  and  the  springs,  by  raising  and  dissi- 


ii 


fr 


11 


i 


till 


!? 


it 

n 


;if 


If^ 


53 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


pating  the  water  from  both.  If  this  ascent  of 
the  waters  be  obstructed  by  any  strata  of  clay, 
rocks,  or  any  other  substance,  through  which 
they  cannot  pass,  they  will  collect  in  such  quan- 
tities, as  to  form  or  find  for  themselv.'s  a  chan- 
nel, through  which  they  may  be  discharged. 
The  place  of  this  discharge  can  only  be  on  the 
side  of  a  Mil,  or  in  some  ground  below  the  lev- 
el of  that  place,  where  they  are  thus  collected  : 
And  at  such  a  place  the  waters  would  continue 
to  issue  out,  as  long  as  they  continued  to  as- 
cend, whatever  might  be  the  severity  or  dura- 
tion of  a  drought.  In  some  such  way,  it  ap- 
pears probable  to  me,  that  some  of  the  springs 
are  formed  in  the  mountains,  by  waters  which 
arc  ascending  towards  the  surface  of  the  earth  ; 
but  which,  instead  of  going  off  at  the  top,  have 
the  ir  discharge  in  small  quantities,  at  the  sides 
of  the  mountains.  Any  strata  of  clay,  rocks, 
or  of  any  other  matter,  which  would  retain  the 
MHtcr  M hen  it  descends  in  rain  or  dew,  and 
})r(Kliice  a  spring  from  their  descent,  would  also 
prevent  the  ascending  Avater  from  passing  thro' 
tiiem,  and  might  produce  a  spring  from  their 
ascent.  This  ascent  of  the  waters  from  the 
bo\\c'ls  to  the  surface  of  the  earth,  is  a  constant, 
l'x)werful,  and  uncaising  operation  of  nature  : 
And  seems  to  be  the  only  cause,  which  is  ade- 
cjuate  to  the  formation  of  those  springs,  which 
nrQ  perejin'tal.  Such  springs  could  scarcely  be 
formed,  or  preserved,  by  the  waters  which  de- 
scend in  rain,  because  they  are  so  little  aifected 
in  tlie  severest  droughts  :  In  these  seasons,  in- 
stead of  being  replenished  by  rain,  the  earth  to 
the  depth  of  many  feet,  is  much  exhausted  of 


.A 


ft4 


1 


ii 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


Tud 


Its  water  by  luat.  And  no  rain  can  over  fall 
upon  the  surface  of  tl\e  earth,  which  was  not 
first  carried  oft'  from  it,  by  r\'aporation. 

MouNTyMNs  serve  also  to  form  small  streams 
and  rivulets,  by  preventing  the  t^vajjoration  of 
water  from  their  surfaces.  The  vapours  out  of 
which  the  clouds  and  rains  are  formed,  are  all 
of  them  first  raised  from  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  When  the  evaporation  is  in  an  open 
field,  exposed  to  the  sun  and  wind,  the  exhala- 
tions are  soon  carried  oft'  into  the  atmosjihere, 
and  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  left  dry.  \\  hen 
the  evaporation  is  from  lands  covered  o^  er  w  ith 
thick  trees  and  bushes,  the  influence  of  the  sun 
and  winds  are  much  prevented  ;  and  the  ^vaters 
stagnate  upoi^.the  surface  of  the  eiuth,  and  len- 
der it  wet  and  miry,  in  the  form  of  sivamps, 
and  confined  waters.  When  the  evaporation  is 
from  the  sides  and  tops  of  mountains,  covered 
with  vegetables,  the  waters  are  but  slowly  car- 
ried off*  by  the  heat  and  wind  ;  nor  e:ni  they 
stagnate,  but  will  be  gradually  and  constantly 
descending  down  the  sides  of  the  mountains,  in 
natural  or  artificial  channels  :  Aud  in  this  a\  ay, 
the  mountains  will  also  be  constantly  producing 
small  streams  or  rivulets. 

A  similar  efibct  will  also  be  produced  by  the 
condensation  and  collection  of  the  vapoins  in 
the  atmosphere,  occasioned  by  the  height  and 
coldness  of  the  mountains.  When  the  w caiher 
is  fair  and  clear,  and  the  atmosphere  serene  iind 
pleasant  in  the  vallies,  the  tops  of  the  mountains 
are  often  obscured,  and  covered  with  a  thick 
fog  or  cloud.  In  the  cool  mornings  of  the 
spring  and  fall,  the  vapours  form  a  Uiick  fog  on 


ifl 


I  i 


'kh 


r 


34 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


the  sides  and  tops  of  the  mountains,  which  do 
not  dissolve  and  disappear,  until  the  sun  has 
risen  several  degrees  above  the  horizon,  and 
the  heat  is  considerably  increased.  In  damp 
iind  rainy  weather,  the  largest  part  of  the  clouds 
seem  to  collect,  and  dissolve  upon  the  moun- 
tains. In  winter  the  snows  fall  sooner,  lie  deep- 
tr,  and  continue  longer  on  the  mountains,  than 
on  any  other  part  of  the  country.  These  phe- 
nomena denote  a  greater,  and  a  more  constant 
collection  of  vapours  and  clouds  by  the  moun- 
tains, than  takes  place  any  where  else  ;  and  it 
seems  to  be  occasioned  by  the  greater  degree 
of  cold,  which  prevails  in  those  elevated  situa- 
tions. The  highest  parts  of  our  mountains  gen- 
erally abound  with  rocks,  and  are  covered  with 
large  quantities  of  thick  green  moss  ;  so  exten- 
sive, compact,  and  tliick,  as  to  reach  from  one 
rock  to  another,  and  of  so  firm  a  contexture  as 
to  bear  the  weight  of  a  man,  without  being 
broken.  These  immense  beds  of  moss  retain 
the  moisture  supplied  by  the  clouds  and  rain  : 
And  while  part  of  it  runs  down  the  sides  of  the 
mountains,  part  will  be  detained  by  the  spungy 
surface,  to  penetrate  and  sink  into  the  earth. 
On  this  account,  and  for  want  of  a  more  rapid 
evaporation,  several  of  our  mountains  are  con- 
stantly Avet  on  their  tops,  and  have  marshy 
spots,  which  are  frequented  by  the  aquatic 
birds.  The  roads  over  these  mountains  are 
frequently  very  wet  and  miry,  when  the  valleys 
b'^ow  are  dry.  When  the  waters  thus  supplied 
O}  rhe  clouds  and  rain,  meet  with  any  strata 
which  prevent  their  descent,  they  collect  in  such 
quantities  as  to  form  a  channel,  and  issue  out 


11: 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT„ 


35 


at  the  sides  of  the  mountain  in  the  form  of 
springs  and  rivulets.  All  those  springs,  which 
are  intermitting,  seem  to  be  thus  formed  by  the 
rains,  or  descending  waters  :  And  the  more 
constant  and  regular  the  rains  are,  the  more 
permanent  and  steady  will  these  springs  be  : 
Such  kinds  of  intermitting  springs  are  to  be 
found  in  great  numbers,  on  the  sides  of  all  high 
mountains.  They  never  fail  to  run  while  the 
rains  continue  in  their  usual  quantities  ;  but 
when  the  rains  cease,  and  a  severe  drought 
comes  on,  these  springs  are  always  found  to  lail. 

In  each  of  these  ways,  the  mountains  supply 
water  for  the  springs  ajid  streams,  out  of  which, 
the  rivers  are  formed  :  And  they  are  such  as 
can  never  fail,  while  the  present  economy  of 
nature  shall  subsist.  But  as  the  country  be- 
comes cultivated,  some  of  the  smaller  streams 
must  decrease  ;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that 
u^en  the  woods  shall  be  cut  down,  some  of  the 
lesser  springs  will  wholly  disappear. 

The  writers  on  natural  historv  have  been 
much  divided  in  their  opinions  respecting  the 
origin  of  springs  and  rivers.  M.  De  La  Hire 
contends  that  the  water  from  which  the  rivers 
are  supplied,  must  be  derived  from  the  sea,  and 
raised  through  the  pores  of  the  earth  :  That  no 
other  source  w:ould  be  Sufficient  to  produce 
those  immense  streams,  that  constantly  appear 
in  the  form  of  brooks  and  rivers  ;  or  that  could 
supply  the  vast  quantities  that  are  employed  in 
vegetation,  or  discharged  into  the  atmosphere 
by  evaporation.  Hist,  de  I'Acad.  1713.  p.  56. 
Dr.  Halley,  on  the  other  hand,  has  said  much 
to  show  that  the  vapors  which  are  exhaled  from 


I     ! 


r  h 


l> 


I      I 


' 


H 


IM 


,!  !  I 


i 


T 

r 


h. 


f, 


K 


\'j. 


36 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


tlic  sea,  and  d^i^'cn  upon  the  lands  by  the  winds, 
imd  return  in  the  form  of  rains,  are  more  than 
sufficient  to  supply  the  earth  with  all  the  water 
that  it  needs  ;  and  to  form  the  fountains,  springs, 
and  rivers,  which  are  perpetually  discharging 
themselves  into  the  ocean.  Phil*  Trans*  VoL 
2.  p.  128. 

Both  these  theories  agree  in  deriving  the 
water  originally  from  the  sea  ;  nor  does  there 
seem  much  difficulty  in  admitting  the  principle 
of  either  :  The  former  seems  most  naturally  to 
account  for  those  perennial  springs,  which  nev- 
er fail  when  the  rains  have  ceased  for  months  ; 
and  the  latter  serves  to  explain  the  cause  of 
those,  which  are  temporaiy,  or  intermitting. 

In  the  plains,  hills,  and  mountains  in  this 
part  of  the  continent,  there  is  scarcely  a  place 
in  which  water  may  not  be  found  at  the  depth 
of  thirty  or  forty  feet  from  the  surface  of  the 
earth  ;  nor  does  there  appear  to  be  any  more 
difficulty  to  have  a  well  with  permanent  water, 
in  the  one  than  in  the  other  of  these  situations. 
It  must  therefore  be  admitted  as  a  well  estab- 
Kshcd  fact,  that  the  earth  at  that  depth  is  well 
saturrated  with  water  ;  nor  does  it  fail,  nor  is 
the  temperature  of  the  earth  at  that  depth  much 
affected,  in  the  hottest,  or  in  the  dryest  season 
that  we  ever  have.  It  may  be  presumed  there- 
fore that  the  eifect  of  the  solar  heat,  and  the 
evaporation  produced  by  it,  does  not  extend 
much  below  that  depth  ;  and  that  every  where 
below,  the  earth  is  saturrated  with  water  by  the 
attraction  or  affinity  that  takes  place  between 
the  particles  of  the  one  and  those  of  the  other. 

It  ,is  customary  with  the  formers  in  >bc 


i^e 


.    K 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        37 

j^ew  England  states  to  avail  themselves  of  this 
process  of  nature,  and  to  form  a  perennial  spring 
for  their  o\vn  convenience.  The  method  of  pro- 
ceeding is  thisj  on  the  side  of  a  hill  they  dig  a 
well,  till  they  come  to  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
water,  generally  from  eighteen  to  forty  feet  be- 
low the  surface^  A  passage  is  then  dug  from 
the  bottom  of  the  well  to  the  side  of  the  hill, 
that  the  water  may  find  a  regular  discharge 
through  the  artificial  channel,  when  it  is  receiv- 
ed and  retained  in  troughs  or  other  receptacles 
for  tlie  use  of  their  cattle.  In  this  way  artificial 
springs  are  often  formed,  which  do  not  fail  in 
our  dryest  summers,  but  become  perennial,  and 
lire  in  every  respect  as  permanent  and  useful  as 
those  which  are  formed  by  nature.  From 
Whence  is  the  water  derived  that  supplies  these 
artificial  perennial  springs  ?  Not  certainly  from 
tains  and  showers,  which  are  casual,  accidental, 
and  variable  ;  but  from  waters  which  are  always 
In  the  earth  at  that  depth,  and  lie  too  far  beneath 
the  surface  to  be  much  affected  by  rain  or 
drought. 

If  in  this  way  we  are  able  to  form  artificial 
perennial  springs,  is  it  to  be  much  doubted  but, 
that  nature  does  the  same  in  a  much  more  ex-* 
tensive  and  perfect  manner  ?  And  would  not 
this  be  always  the  effect,  when  the  water  in  our 
hills  and  mountains  can  find  or  force  for  itself  a 
passage,  at  the  side  or  bottom  of  the  declivity  ? 
The  phenomena  seem  to  denote  such  operations 
and  effects.  In  all  our  mountains  perennial 
springs  are  found  issuing  at  their  sides  or  bot- 
toms. In  our  most  extensive  and  sandy  plains 
perennial  springs  ar«  often  found  at  the  bottom 


I     11 


I     •( 


*'    } 


^  i: 


n 


«!.f! 


( 


i! 


hi  ( 


hi 

.  \ 

.'■  1 

1- 


^*'  li'  ' 


i 


.;'l  H' 


i 


^     -«,. 


38 


NATURAL   AND    CIVIL 


i    ' 


*A-i 


of  their  d'^clivities.  These  springs  continue, 
when  the  whole  plain  for  many  miles  round  is 
so  parched  and  burnt  up  with  drought,  that  ve- 
getation almost  ceases.  Could  these  springs  be 
supplied  with  water  derived  from  rain,  when  it 
has  ceased  for  months  ;  or  has  not  been  enough 
to  preserve  the  vegetables  from  perishing  ? 
From  what  other  source  then  could  they  be 
supplied,  but  from  the  water  which  is  perma- 
nently and  plentifully  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
and  is  not  dissipated  or  wasted  by  evaporation 
or  heat  ? 


.     M 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        39 


CHAPTER    HL 

Rivers  and  lakes.— 7%<*  Situation,  Chan- 
nels, Intervales,  Courses,  Depths,  and  Effects 
of  the  Rivers,  An  account  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  and  Memphremagog»  J  ; 

...  •  M\  -  :i     "r  Iv 

ALL  the  streams  and  rivers  of  Ver- 
mont, have  their  origin  among  the  green  moun- 
tains. About  thirty  five  of  them  have  an  east- 
erly direction,  and  fall  into  Connecticut  river. 
About  twenty  five  run  westerly,  and  discharge 
themselves  into  Lake  Champlain :  Two  or  three, 
running  in  the  same  direction,  fall  into  Hud- 
son's river.  In  the  northeasterly  parts  of  the' 
state,  there  are  four  or  five  streams  which  have 
a  northerly  direction,  and  run  into  the  lake' 
Memphremagog  ;  from  thence,  through  the 
river  St.  Francis,  they  are  emptied  into  the  riy- ' 
er  St.  Lawrence.  >:;-.  ;i>.^M  •     i        io 

The  most  considerable'  streams  on  the  west 
side  of  the  green  mountains,  are  Otter  creek. 
Onion  river,  the  river  Lamoille,  and  Michis- 
coui.— Otter  cretek  rises  in  Bromley  ;  runs 
northerly  about  ninety  miles,  and  fells  irtto 
Lake  Champlain  at  Ferrisburgh  ;  and  in:^its 
course  receives  about  fifteen  smaller  streai^s. 
There  are  large  falls  in  this  river  at  Rutland, 
Pittsford,  Middlebury,  and  Vergennes.  Be- 
tween these  falls,  the  current  is  very  slow,  the 
water  is  deep,  and  it  is  navigable  for  the  largest 
boats.  Vessels  of  any  burden  may  come  up  to 
the  falls  at  Vergennes,  five  miles  from  its  mouth. 
The  head  of  this  river  in  Bromley  is  not  more 


'  4 
I  i 


;•  I 


11    : 


I)    ( 


40' 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


than  thirty  feet  from  the  head  of  Batton  Kill^ 
which  runs  in  a  contrary  direction,  and  falls  into 
Hudson's  river. 

Onion  river,  was  formerly  called  the  French 
river,  and  by  the  Indians,  Winooski.  It  rises 
in  Cabot,  about  fourteen  miles  to  the  west  of 
Connecticut  river,  and  thirty  miles  to  the  east 
of  the  heights  of  the  green  mountains.  A  small 
southerly  branch  rises  in  Washington  and  Co- 
rinth, not  more  than  ten  miles  fiom  Connecti- 
cut river.  From  this  southerly  branch.  Onion 
river  runs  northwesterly,  about  seventy  five 
miles,  and  empties  itself  into  Lake  Champlain, 
between  Burtington  and  Ci)lchester.  This  riv^ 
^r  receives  fourteen  smaller  streams,  and  is  navi- 
gable for  small  vessels,  five  mjles  from  its 
moutli.  It  has  several  falls,  between  which  it 
is  navigable  for  boat$.  At  one  of  these  falls  in 
Waterbury,  ,the  channel  of  the  river  becomes, 
very  narrow,  -^nd  passes  between  a  high  ledge 
of  rocks  on  each  side.  A  huge  unshapely  rock, 
ia  some  anciei^it.  jtjjjae,  hath*  fallen  from  one  of 
these  ledges,,  in  such  a  manner,  that  the  whole 
river  now  runs  under  it.  ,yThe  rock  forms  a 
kind  of  natural  bridge,  but  one  that  can  never 
be  pf  any  use  ;  as  neither  the  shape  of  the  rock, 
or  the  situation  of  .the  adjacent  banks,  will  ever 
adniit  of  a  road  eitlier  to,  or  over  the  rock.  A- 
bout  six  miles  from  its  mouth,  l^etween  Bur-^ 
lington.and  Colchester,  the, channel  of  this  riv- 
er is  formed  by  a  solid  rock.  The  channel 
through  the  rock,  by  estimation,  is  fifteen  rods 
in  length,  fifty  feet  wide,  and  seventy  feet  deep, 
Every  appearance  seems  to  denote  that  this 
chaiinel  was  formed  by  the  w^ater,  which  in  thi» 


I 


i 

I* 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT, 


41 


1, 
I 
I 


I 


place  could  not  have  had  any  other  passage.-- 
Onion  river  is  one  of  the  finest  streams  in  Ver^ 
mont.  It  runs  through  a  most  fertile  country, 
the  produce  of  which  for  several  miles  on  each 
side  of  the  river,  is  brought  down  to  the  Lake 
at  Burlington,  It  was  along  this  river,  that  the 
Indians  formerly  travelled  from  Canada,  when 
they  made  their  attacks  upon  the  frontier  settle- 
ments on  Connecticut  river. 

^-  -i  .  r  Lamoille  prc^'^f^s  from  a  pond  in 
Glover,  jitj  general  course  is  westerly  :  After 
running  abou,t  seventy  five  miles,  and  receiving 
fourteen  lesser  streams,  it  falls  into  Lake  Cham- 
plain  at  Colchester,  five  miles  north  of  the 
mouth  of  Onion  river  ;  and  is  of  the  same  mag- 
nitude as  that.  The  river  Lamoille  is  a  fine, 
smooth,  and  pleasant  stream  ;  and  runs  through 
a  rich,  level,  fertile,  country.  The  height  of 
the  land  in  the  northeast  p&rt  of  the  state,  seems 
to  be  about  Greenborough.  About  six  miles 
to  the  sOiithwest  of  the  origin  of  the  river  La-^ 
moille,  is  Scotland  pond  :  From  this  proceeds 
Black  river,  which,  for  five  or  six  miles  runs  in 
a  direction  opposite  to^  and  nearly  parallel,  with 
that  of  thfe  Jiv^r  Lamoille,  and  discharges  itself 
into  the  lake  Mfemjih'rema'gog.   ' 

Micrfiscoui  is  the  Indian  name  of  the  most 
northerly  river  in  the- -state.  It  has  its  source 
in  Belvidere,'and  runs*  nearly  northeast  until  it 
has  crossed  the  north  line-  0f' Vermont  •.  After 
running  to  some  distance  in  Canada^  it  titms 
west,  and  then  southerly,  and  then  reenters  the 
state  in  Riohford  ;  and  falls  into  Lake  Cham- 
plain*?  at  Michiscoui  bay,  in  Highgate.  This 
river  is  navigable  for  the  largest  boatis  to  th© 


:.1 


<i, 


)  '1: 


f 


!  i 


■I 


42 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL' 


falls  at  Sivanton,  seven  miles  from  its  mouth. 
Michiscoui,  Lamoille,  and  Onion  river,  arc 
nearly  of  the  same  magnitude.  '■    ' 

On  the  east  side  of  the  green  mountains,  the 
rivers  are  not  so  large  as  those  on  the  ^est,  but 
they  are  more  numerous.  The  largest  of  them 
are  Wantastitcjuek  or  West  river,  White  river, 
and  Poousoomsuck.  Waiitastitquek  has  its 
main  source  in  Bromley,  about,  three  miles 
southeast  from  the  head  of  Otter  ci]6ek.  Its. 
course  is  to  the  southeast  ;  it  receives, seven  or 
eight  smaller  streams  ;  and  after  running  about 
thirty  seven  miles,  falls  into  Connectiput  river 
at  Brattleborough.  At  its  mouth  this  river  i«i 
about  fifteen  rods  \yide,  and  ten  or  tvvelve  feet 
deep. 

;  The  north  branch  of  White  river,  prises  in 
KingstQn,  The  south  branch  has  its  sburce  ius 
Philadelphia.  From  Kingston,  the.  ( general 
course /)f  this  fivex  is  southerly  ;  its  leng^\  a- 
bout fifty  miles,;  it  receives  six  or  seven  lesser 
streams  ;  and  falls  into  Connecticut  river  at 
Hartford.  .White  river  abounds  with  falls  and 
ritpids  ;  at  its  mouth  it  ig  ajjout  eighteen  rodji 
in  width,  but  not  mor^  thai^  ten  feet  in  depth,    i 

i,  PooifsooMsucK,  ris^frcftn  a  pond  in  West- 
more.  Its  course  is  $puthefly  ;  it  is  made  up 
of  ten  lesser,  streams  ;.  .^nd  after  running  about 
fort^. five,, miles,,  it , joins  Connecticut  river  in 
Bam^t,  i  It  is  there  twelve  rods  wide,  ^d  eight 
fedt  dsof^ 


I  a' jf':,  ijifU 


t ', 


I  i-iftj    i> 


■  nl.,4    ...jr'       It 


Cdn^NECTic'^'^t  1'ivei^,  into  which  these 
streims  fall,  fot^s  the  eastern  boundary  of  the 
state;    The  original  Indian  name,  which  it  stil^ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT,         43 

bears,  signifies  the  long  river.*  This  river  has 
its  source  in  a  ridge  of  mountains,  which  extend 
northeasterly  to  the  gulph  of  St.  Lawrence. 
The  head  of  its  northwestern  branch,  is  about 
twenty  five  miles  beyond  the  latitude  of  forty 
five  degrees  ;  and  so  far  it  has  been  surveyed. 
When  it  first  enters  the  state,  it  is  about  ten 
rods  wide  ;  and  in  the  course  of  sixty  miles  in- 
creases in  its  width  to  twenty  four  rods.  Its 
course  between  Vermont  and  Newhampshire,  i. 
distance  of  two  hundred  miles,  is  southwesterly ; 
from  thence  to  its  mouth,  the  course  is  more 
southerly.  After  running  about  four  hundred 
miles  through  the  country-,  and  receiving  a 
great  number  of  other  streams  s  A   rivers,  it 

discharges  itself  into  the  ocean  at  Seabrook 

With  respect  to  its  length,  utility,  and  beauty, 
this  is  one  of  the  finest  rivers  in  the  eastern 
states.  In  the  months  of  April  or  May,  it  over- 
flows its  banks  ;  and  for  a  length  of  three  hun* 
dred  miles,  forms  and  fertilizes  a  vast  tract  of 
rich  meadow.  Vessels  of  eighty  or  one  hun- 
dred tons,  go  up  this  river  as  far  as  Hartford  in 
Connecticut,  fifty  miles  from  its  mouth.  It  is 
navigable  for  boats,  three  hundred  miles  further, 
except  the  falls  which  the  states  of  Vermont, 
Massachusetts,  and  Connecticut,  are  now  ma- 
king navigable  by  locks.  While  it  increases 
the  richness,  and  serves  to  transport  the  produce, 
by  its  perpetual  majestic  movement  through  an 

*  The  names  which  the  original  inhabitants  assigned  to  our  monn- 
tains,  plains,  and  valleys,  are  mostly  lost.  Many  of  our  rivers,  bays,  and 
talis  of  water,  are  yet  known  by  their  ancient  Indian  names.  On  account 
of  their  originality,  antiquity,  signification,  singularity,  and  sound,  these 
names  ought  to  be  carefully  preserved.  In  every  reipect  they  are  far 
preferable  to  the  unmeaning  application,  and  constant  repetition  of  an  im(> 
proper  Engliib  oame. 


.1   1 

1 

1 

t 

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1 

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NATtTRAL   AND  CIVIL 


immense  tract  of  country,  it  is  always  adding/ 
beauty  and  grandeur  to  the  prospect. 

To  this  account  of  our  rivtirs,  some  observa- 
tions may  be  added  respecting  their  operations 
and  eftects.— Their  first  operation  seems  to 
have  been,  to  form  themselves  a  channel.  The 
-highest  waters  descend  along  the  mountains,  un- 
til they  meet  with  some  obstacle  to  obstruct 
their  motion.  Whatever  this  obstacle  may  be, 
it  operates  as  a  dam,  and  serves  to  collect  the 
waters  into  a  small  pond  or  lake.  Two  causes 
are  constantly  raising  the  waters,  in  such  col- 
lections :  The  earth  is  peq^etually  brought  down 
by  the  waters,  to  the  bottom  of  such  ponds  ; 
and  the  water  is  constantly  rising  by  its  own 
accumulation.  When  it  is  raised  above  the 
banks,  the  waters  find  their  passage  in  the  low- 
est part,  and  begin  to  form  a  channel  there  ;  and 
a  channel  thus  formed,  will  constantly  be  made 
more  and  more  deep,  by  the  perpetual  running 
of  the  water.  A  similar  operation  must  take 
place  through  the  whole  course  of  the  river, 
from  its  first  rise  and  source,  to  its  final  dis- 
chai'ge  into  the  waters  of  the  ocean.  Their 
channels  must  at  first  have  been  formed  by 
their  waters  ;  which,  constantly  accumulating, 
and  struggling  for  a  passage,  approach,  or  dis- 
charge themselves  into  the  nearest  situation  they 
Gould  take  to  the  centre  of  the  earth. 

In  this  descent  and  passage  to  the  ocean,  all 
the  large  rivers  in  this  part  of  America,  have 
also  formed  large  tracts  of  intervale  lands.  By 
intervales  we  mean  those  low  lands,  which  arc 
adjacent  to  the  rivers,  and  are  frequently  over- 
flpwed  by  them  la  the  spring  and  fall,  or  whenev- 


1 


and 


1.  f 


t 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


45 


cr  the  waters  are  raised  to  their  greatest  height. 
These  intervales  are  level,  and  extensive  plains  ; 
of  the  same  altitude  as  the  banks  of  the  river  ; 
in  width  they  often  reach  from  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  to  a  mile  and  an  half,  sometimes  on  one, 
and  sometimes  on  both  sides  of  the  river. 
There  are  frequently  two  strata  of  the  intervales, 
the  one  four  or  five  feet  higher  than  the  other  ; 
the  highest  of  which  is  not  overflowed,  but 
when  the  waters  are  raised  to  an  uncommon 
height  ;  but  they  are  level,  and  extensive  like 
the  other.  Both  of  them  have  many  indications, 
that  they  were  formed  by  the  waters  of  the  riv- 
ers. The  soil  is  always  of  that  rich  mud  and 
slime,  which  is  brought  down  by  the  rivers  in 
the  spring.  In  digging  into  these  lands,  vari- 
ous appearances  of  decaying  vegetables  are  fre- 
quently found.  The  strata  formed  at  particular 
years,  are  easily  distinguished  ;  and  the  origin- 
al and  new  made  soil  are  so  different,  as  to  be 
readily  known.  The  limbs  and  trunks  of  large 
and  sound  trees,  are  often  found  at  various 
depths  ;  sometimes  so  low  as  forty  feet  below 
the  surface.  The  small  islands  in  these  inter- 
vales, are  of  a  diiferent  soil,  and  less  rich  ;  and 
are  evidently  the  tops  of  small  hills,  which  have 
not  been  covered  by  the  inundations  of  the  riv- 
ers. These  long  and  level  surfaces  are  peculi- 
ar to  the  banks  of  rivers,  and  consist  of  the 
same  rich  manure  which  is  yet  annually  brought 
down,  and  deposited  by  the  waters.  The  cause, 
by  which  they  are  now  annually  increased,  could 
not  fail  to  have  produced  such  effects,  in  the 
course  of  a  long  series  of  years. 

In  these  intervales  there  are  several  places,, 
F 


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AG 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


If 
f 

,      4 


where  another  curious  plicnomcnon  occurs. 
The  rivers  have  chani^ed  tlicir  courses,  their 
ancient  channels  are  left  dry,  and  they  have 
fornx'd  new  ones.  In  the  uncultivated  parts  of 
the  country,  where  the  operations  of  nature 
have  not  been  altered  or  changed,  the  traveller 
finds  many  places  \\here  the  rivers  formerly 
roiled,  which  are  now  drv,  and  at  a  considerable 
distance,  sometimes  a  mile  or  more  from  the 
present  beds  of  those  rivers.  In  some  of  these 
ancient  channels,  the  waters  must  have  run  for 
a  long  number  of  ages  ;  as  they  have  worn  the 
surface  of  the  stones  as  smoolli  as  those,  which 
are  to  be  found  on  the  sea  shores.  In  some 
places  the  former  channels  i\rc  left  dry,  abound- 
ing with  smooth  stones  and  rocks  :  In  oihers, 
the  channels  ai'c  converted  into  ponds,  or  o\cr- 
grown  with  bushes  or  trees.  iVppcaran.ccs  of 
this  kind  are  common  in  all  the  mountainous 
parts  of  the  country  ;  and  something  of  the 
same  kind,  is  constantly  taking  place  in  most  of 
our  rivers.  In  all  large  streams,  the  channel  is 
more  or  less  affected  every  year  :  Strips  of 
land,  one  or  two  rods  in  width,  and  of  some 
miles  in  length,  are  often  carried  off  in  the 
spring  ;  and  additions  are  made  to  the  banks  in 
other  places.  The  lands  thus  formed,  in  some 
places,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  amount  to 
several  acres,  ar.d  are  of  an  uncommon  riclmess 
and  fertility  ;  but  they  are  always  attended  with 
an  equal  loss  in  some  other  part  of  the  river. 

The  depth  of  the  channels  which  our  rivers 
have  formed,  depends  upon  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances :  The  nature  of  the  soil,  the  declivity 
oi"  the  river,  the  situation  of  the  adjacent  banks, 


i  ,  ! 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT. 


47 


the  quantity  of  water,  &c.  Tlicir  channels  have 
been  formed  two  ways,  by  the  wearing  away  of 
tho  p^round  in  some  places,  and  by  forming  or 
raising  the  intervale  lands  in  others  ;  but  most 
generally  the  channels  of  our  rivers  have  been 
formed  in  both  these  ways.  In  large  streams 
passing  through  the  intervales  which  they  have 
formed,  and  moving  with  a  gentle  force,  the 
depth  of  the  channels  appear  to  have  a  similari- 
ty, or  at  least  a  resemblance.  The  dept!iofthe 
channels  in  such  situations,  in  sundry  ph  ces  in 
Connecticut  river,  Ottercreek  and  Or  ion  river 
is  forty  or  fifty  feet  below  that  of  the  adjacent 
banks.  But  the  alteration  in  the  de:^th  of  these 
channels,  is  so  gradual  and  slow,  that  ii  has 
scarcely  been  perceptible,  since  the  firsi  :jv:ttle- 
iiicnt  of  the  country  by  the  Englis-'. 

It  is  not  only  in  the  channels  a /"d  Intervales, 
which  the  rivers  have  formed,  that  their  effects 
are  to  be  seen  ;  but  their  operations  are  also 
visible,  upon  the  stones  and  rocks.  The  stones 
which  have  been  constantly  \vathed  by  the 
streams  are  always  found  to  be  smooth  and 
even  ;  and  the  rocks  in  many  places,  are  not 
only  become  smooth  and  slippery,  but  they  are 
much  worn  away  by  the  constant  running  of 
the  water.  There  is  ancilirr  phenomenon  ex- 
tremely curious,  derived  Irom  this  cause  ;  in 
several  rivers,  there  are  holes  or  cavities,  wrought 
into  the  solid  body  of  large  rocks,  by  the  de- 
scent, or  circular  motion  of  the  water.  At 
Rockingham,  there  is  a  remarkable  fall  in  Con- 
necticut riv  cr,  w^here  the  M^ater  passes  over  a 
bar  of  solid  rock  ;  and  which  it  must  have  been 
constantly  passing  over,  ever  since  the  river 


•f 


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V       ( 


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ii 


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'I       ' 


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♦  4 


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48 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


s, 


began  to  flow.     In  the  rocks  at  these  falls,  thcrr 
are  several  cavities,  which  appear  to  have  been; 
formed  by  the  circular  motion  of  small  stone 
constantly  kept  in  action  by  the  force  of  the  de 
scending  waters.     Some  of  these  cavities  are 
two  or  three  feet  in  diameter,  and  from  two  to 
foui  Jieet  in  depth  ;  and  probably  they  are  yet  in- 
creasing.    Such  phenonicna  arc  not  uncommon 
wherever  there  are  deep  falls   in  our   ri\ers. 
But  the  most  singular  appearances  of  this  na- 
ture which  I  have  e\er  seen,  are  at  Cavendish, 
upon  Black  river,  near  the  house  of  Salmon 
Dutton.      Here,  the  channel  of  the  river  has 
been  worn  down,  one  hundred  feet ;  And  rocks 
of  very  large  dimensions,  have  been  undermin- 
ed, and  thrown  down,  one  upon  another.     Holes, 
are  wrought  into  the  rocks,  of  various  dimen- 
sions, and  forms  :  Some  of  them  are  cylindrical, 
from  one  to  eight  feet  in  diameter,  and  from 
one  to  fifteen  feet  in  depth  :  Others  are  of  a 
spherical  form,  from  six  to  twenty  feet  diame- 
ter, worn  almost  perfectly  smooth,  into  the  solid 
body  of  a  rock. 

How  long  a  period  nature  has  been  employ- 
ed in  carrying  on  these  operations,  we  can 
scarcely  hope  to  determine.  All  the  circum- 
stances relating  to  the  channels  of  rivers,  and 
the  intervales  which  they  have  formed,  iu*e  such 
as  denote  periods  of  time  very  remote,  and  of 
the  highest  antiquity.  It  can  scarcely  be  sup- 
posed that  in  the  formation  of  the  intervales,  the 
annual  increase  has  amounted  to  the  tenth  part 
of  an  inch.  At  present,  the  freshets  in  the 
spring  and  fall,  and  throughout  the  year,  do  not 
annually  deposit  the  one  half  of  this  quantity  of 


HISTORY  OF   vi!.KMUiNr. 


49 


es, 


a 


\  { 


earth,  upon  the  intervales.  At  no  place  in  this, 
state,  is  there  any  appearance  that  the  surface  of 
the  intervales  has  been  raised  an  inch,  in  the 
period  of  ten  years.  But  admitting  such  an  in- 
crease, where  the  depth  of  the  intervales  are  fifty 
feet,  the  period  necessary  to  produce  such  an, 
effect,  would  be  six  thousand  years.  But  in  all 
such  kinds  of  computation,  the  data  which  we 
assume,  are  not  marked  with  sufficient  certainty 
or  precision,  to  leave  us  satisfied  with  the  con- 
clusion. The  effects  of  the  rivers  upon  the 
solid  rocks,  seem  to  be  more  slow,  regular  and 
uniform.  There  are  situations  in  this,  and  in 
every  part  of  America,  where  the  water  has  been 
constantly  flowing  over  a  solid  body  of  rock, 
ever  since  the  channels  of  the  rivers  were  first 
formed.  If  we  knew  from  observation,  how 
much  such  rocks  were  worn  away  in  one  cen- 
tury, by  the  waters,  we  could  form  a  pretty  just 
conclusion  how  long  the  waters  have  been  run- 
ning in  those  places.  If  the  philosophers  of  the 
present  age  will  make  accurate  observations  of 
the  altitude  and  situations  of  such  rocks,  and 
put  their  observations  upon  record  in  the  trans- 
actions of  their  philosophical  societies,  they  will 
enable  posterity  to  solve  a  problem,  which  we 
can  hardly  expect  to  determine  in  our  day. 

While  the  one  half  of  our  rivers  pass  oft' in- 
to the  ocean  to  the  south,  through  Connecticut 
river,  the  other  half  find  their  way  to  the  ocean, 
at  the  northeast,  through  Lake  Champlain  and 
the  river  St.  Lawrence.---Lake  Champlain  is 
the  largest  collection  of  waters  in  this  part  of 
the  United  States.  Reckoning  its  length  from 
Fairhaven    to     St.    John's,    a    course    nearly 


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50 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


h 


north,  it  will  amount  to  about  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
miles.  Its  width  is  from  one  to  eighteen  miles, 
being  very  different  in  different  places  ; 
the  mean  width  may  be  estimated  at  five 
miles.  This  will  give  one  thousand  square 
miles,  or  six  hundred  and  forty  thousand  acres, 
as  the  area  of  its  surface.  Its  depth  is  sufficient 
for  the  navigation  of  the  largest  vessels.  It 
contains  several  islands  ;  one  of  them,  the  Grand 
Isle,  is  twenty  four  miles  long,  and  from  two  to 
four  miles  wide. 

The  waters  which  form  this  lake,  are  col- 
lected from  a  large  tiact  of  country.  All  the 
streams,  which  arise  in  more  than  one  half  of 
Vermont,  flow  into  it.  There  are  several, 
which  also  fall  into  its  eastern  side,  from  the 
province  of  Canada.  It  is  probable  the  rivers 
which  flow  into  the  west  side,  are  as  large,  nu- 
merous, and  extensive,  as  those  on  the  east. 
The  waters  therefore,  from  which  Lake  Cham- 
plain  is  formed,  seem  to  be  collected  from  a 
tract  of  country,  of  a  larger  extent,  than  the 
whole  state  of  Vermont. 

There  are  many  marks  and  indications  that 
the  surface  uf  this  lake,  was  formerly  thirty  or 
forty  feet  higher  than  it  is  now.  The  rocks  in 
several  places  appear  to  be  marked,  and  stained, 
with  the  former  surface  of  the  lake,  many  feet 
higher,  than  it  has  been,  from  its  first  discovery 
by  Sir  Samuel  Champlain,  ia  1608.  Fossil 
shells,  the  limbs  and  bodies  of  trees,  are  fre- 
quently found  at  the  depth  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
feet  in  the  earth  ;  this  is  the  case  not  only  a- 
long  the  shores,  but  in  the  low  lands  at  the  dis- 
tance of  two  or  three  miles  from  them.     The 


,  \ 

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,4? 
■4 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


51 


soil  in  many  places  near  the  shore,  is  evidently 
of  the  same  factitious  kind,  as  the  intervales 
formed  by  the  rivers.  These,  and  other  cir- 
cumstances, have  left  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of 
the  inhabitants  along  the  lake  shore,  that  the 
waters  of  it  were  formerly  much  higher,  and 
spread  to  a  much  greater  extent,  than  the}'  now 
are. 

The  operations  of  nature  with  respect  to  the 
lake,  must  have  been  the  same  that  they  were 
in  relation  to  the  rivers.  When  the  waters  dis- 
charged by  the  streams,  amounted  to  such  a 
collection,  as  to  rise  above  the  shores  of  the 
lake,  they  would  overflow  at  the  lowest  part. 
There,  the  channel  would  begin  ;  and  being 
formed,  it  would  become  more  and  more  deep, 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  channel  of  a  river. 
The  channel  which  this  lake  found,  and  formed, 
was  to  the  northward  ;  into  the  river  St.  La^v- 
rence  ;  and  through  that  into  the  ocean.  When 
this  channel,  by  the  constant  running  of  the  wa- 
ter, was  worn  down  thirty  or  forty  feet,  the  sur- 
face of  the  lake  would  naturally  subside  the 
same  space. 

At  present  there  is  but  little  alteration  in  the 
height  of  the  w^aters,  through  the  year.  The\- 
generally  rise  from  about  the  twentieth  of  April 
until  the  twentieth  of  June.  Their  rise  is  com- 
monly from  four  to  six  feet,  the  greatest  varia- 
tion is  not  more  than  eight  feet.  The  lake  is 
early  frozen  round  the  shores,  but  it  is  not 
commonly  wholly  shut  up  with  the  ice,  until  the 
middle  of  Januar).*     Between  the  sixth  and  the 

*  When  the  ice  is  become  of  its  greatest  density  and  firmness, lar-]!* 
and  extensiy*  cratks  or  opening*  iTill  suddenly  take  place.    Th?se  cr;i<k.< 


I 

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52 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


fifteenth  of  April,  the  ice  generally  goes  off ; 
and  it  is  not  uncommon  for  muny  square  miles 
of  it,  to  disappear  in  one  day. 

The  north  line  of  Vermont  passes  over  the 
south  part  of  the  lake  Memphremagog.  This 
lake  is  about  forty  miles  in  length,  and  two  or 
three  miles  wide.  It  lies  chiefly  in  the  Province 
of  Canada,  and  has  a  northerly  d'rection.  The 
river  St.  Francis  forms  a  communication  be- 
tween the  lake  Memphremagog,  and  the  river 
St.  Lawrence.  Round  this  lake,  there  is  a  rich 
soil,  and  a  fine  level  country. 

in  the  ice,  generally  nin  in  an  oblique  direction,  from  one  Cape  to  anoth- 
er, and  often  to  the  distance  of  tun  or  fifteen  miles.  Sometimes  the  ice 
will  separate  on  each  side,  to  the  distance  of  five  or  six  feet ;  at  other 
times  it  will  lap  over,  or  more  commonly  be  thrown  up  in  ridges  four  or 
five  feet  high  ;  and  it  is  often  broken  into  pieces  of  two  or  three  feet  di- 
ameter, all  round  the  edges.  These  openings  often  prove  dangerous  to 
the  traveller.  They  seem  to  be  produced,  by  the  occasional  rise  and  fall 
of  the  waters,  in  the  lake  ;  which  as  they  cannot  remove,  must  operate 
to  elevate  and  depress,  and  thus  to  bend  and  break,  the  extensive  and 
solid  body  of  ice,  which  must  have  assumed  the  spherical  form,  which  the 
T/atcr»  had  when  they  were  first  frozen. 


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I 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.         53 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Climate.  An  account  of  the  Temperature, 
IFinds^  Rain,  Snow  and  Jf^eather.  The  change 
of  Climate  which  has  attended  the  Ciiltivatio?i 
of  the  Country. 

THE  temperature  of  any  particular 
place,  depends  chiefly  upon  the  latitude,  the 
cultivation  of  the  country,  the  elevation  of  the 
place  above  the  adjacent  lands,  and  its  proxim- 
ity to  the  ocean.  The  latitude  of  Vermont  is 
between  42  degrees  44  minutes,  and  45  degrees 
north.  Miich  the  largest  part  of  the  state  has 
never  been  cultivated.  A  large  part  of  the  land, 
is  a  range  of  mountains,  much  higher  than  the 
adjacent  parts  of  the  country  :  And  the  state  is 
from  eighty  to  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles 
from  the  ocean. 

The  most  common  method  of  determining 
the  mean  degree  of  heat  which  prevails  in  any 
part  of  the  earth,  is  by  thermometrical  observa- 
tions. In  the  years  1789,  90,  91,  I  made  a 
course  of  meteorological  obser^'ations  at  Rut- 
land, about  the  latitude  of  43  degrees,  36  min- 
utes. The  greatest  height  of  Farenheit's 
tliermometer  during  that  period,  was  93  and  a 
half  degrees,  on  July  13,  1791.  The  least 
height  was  27  below  0,  on  December  19,  1790- 
These  may  be  esteemed  as  near  the  extremes  of 
heat  and  cold,  in  this  climate.  The  mean  heaty 
deduced  from  the  whole  number  of  observations, 
was  43  and  a  half  degres. 

The  temperature  of  the  climate  may  also  be 
G 


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determined  by  observations  of  the  heat  which 
prevails  in  deep  wells  and  springs.  The  heat 
of  the  atmosphere,  is  derived  from  the  heat, 
which  takes  place  at  the  surface  of  the  eartb. 
In  passing  throuj.'-h  the  atmosphere,  the  solar 
rays  do  not  communicate  any '  heat  to  the  par- 
ticles of  air.  The  rays  must  first  fall  ui>on  the 
earth,  be  stopped,  and  collected,  before  they 
produce  their  effect  :  And  no  greater  heat  can 
ever  be  communicated  to  the  atmosphere,  than 
was  first  communicated  to  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  Hence  we  find  the  temperature  of  those 
wells  and  springs,  which  are  so  far  beneath  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  as  not  to  be  much  affectecl 
by  the  heat  in  summer,  or  by  the  cold  in  win- 
ter, is  the  same  as  the  mean  temperature  of  that 
climate  ;  or  the  mean  heat  of  the  atmosphere, 
in  that  place.  The  temperature  of  the  water  in 
the  deep  wells  in  this  place,  is  exactly  the  same 
as  the  mean  heat  of  the  atmosphere.  I  have 
rej^eatedly  examined  the  temperature  of  the  wa- 
ter in  a  well  near  the  State  House,  by  estima- 
tion forty  five  feet  in  depth,  and  I  have  always 
found  the  heat  to  be  43  and  a  half  degrees, 
without  any  variation  in  sun^mer  or  winter.* 

*  On  a  Journey  from  tlie'  University  at  NcwhaVcn  in  Connecticut, 
to  Burlington  upon  Onion  river,  1  made  the  following  observations  upon 
the  temperature  of  the  wells ;  which  may  serve  to  show  in  what  manner 
the  heat  decreafes,  as  wc  advance  towards  the  north,  in  a  country  but  lit- 
tle cultivated. 


PtACE. 

Newhaven, 

Middletown 

Hartford, 

Stockliridge, 

Pittsfield, 

Tinmouth, 

Rutland 

Burlingtoo, 


President's  well, 
Goodwin's  Inn, 
Bull's  Inn, 
Judge  Edwards*!, 
Strong's  Inn, 


Judge  Mattock'i  Sprint, 
Bucll's  ■ 


Inn, 
Kcyc»'  Inn, 


cpth  by  ef- 

Tempera- 

timation. 

ture. 

30  Feet. 

49°  l-» 

a? 

50 

40- 

49  I-* 

*5 

JO 

40 

47  I-» 

44 

45 

43  X.t 

*5 

4» 

Anc 
from  tl 
getable 
when  t 
leaves, 
seeds 
produc 
the  bin 
make 
tions  u 
observi 
relative 
ferring 
animals 
two  sm 
the  tim 
their  fri 

J  vietv 
P 

Trees  and  S 
Elder, 
Gooseberry 
Ciirr-ni, 
Raspberry, 
Sttawberry, 
Wild  Cher 
Wild  Plun 
Apple  Tre 

.4  v'teiL 


Sredt  ar 
Flax, 

Swing  Wh 
Winter  Wi 
Oats, 
Pfaj, 
Barley, 
Rve, 

Indian  Oqi 
iiay, 


1,1 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT. 


5S 


Another  view  of  the  climate  may  be  taken 
from  the  common  operations  of  nature,  the  ve- 
getable  and  animal  productions.  The  times 
when  the  trees  and  plants  put  forth  their  buds, 
leaves,  flowers  and  fniit,  or  when  the  diftcrent 
seeds  are  planted,  spring  up,  are  in  blossom, 
produce  their  fruit,  and  are  gathered  in  ;  when 
the  birds  of  passage,  or  other  migratory  animals, 
make  their  approach  or  departure.  Observa- 
tions upon  such  phenomena,  are  aniong  the  best 
observations  we  can  ever  have,  to  ascertain  the 
relative  temperatures  of  different  climates.  Re- 
ferring those  which  relate  to  the  migration  of 
animals,  to  the  description  of  the  birds,  one  or 
two  small  tables  will  ser\e  to  give  us  a  view  of 
the  times,  when  different  vegetables  produce 
their  fruit,  in  this  part  of  the  continent. 

Table    I. 
J  vietv  of  the  Climate^  taken  from  the  state  of 
Vegetation  in  the  Trees  and  Shrubs. 

Maturity. 

\     June  15  1    ■ 

i     May  9     j 

i     May  I     J 

'     May  a?     J 

I     May  6     | 

(     May  4     J 

[     May  1      irt 

May  12     A 

Table  II. 

A  viexu  of  the  Climate^  taken  from  the  fruits  of 

the    Field. 


Trees  and  Shrubl 
Elder, 

Gooseberry, 
Ciirr-nt, 
Raspberry, 
Strawberry, 
Wild  Cherry, 
Wild  Plumb, 
Apple  Tree, 


Budt. 

Leavts. 

Flowers. 

April        5 

April     14 

J""e       15 

April        6 

April     16 

May          9 

April        6 

April     i6 

May          I 

April         6 

April     17 

May        27 

April      ^o 

April     20 

May          6 

April       s<J 

April    28 

May          4 

April       20 

May         4 

May          1 

April       22 

Miy        I 

May        1 2 

July 

20 

July 

I 

J"iy 

S 

June 

>5 

June 

28 

August    IS 
August  tS 


Seeds  and  Fruiti. 
Flax, 

Spring  Wheat, 
Winter  Wheat 
Oats, 

Peas,  '  > '  1 

Barley, 
Rvc, 

Indian  0<jrn, 
Hay, 


5own. 
April 
April 
Sept. 
April 
April 
April 
August 
May 


]6 

».5 
I 

so 

16 

CO 

90 
»5 


Flowers. 


June 
May 
May 
June 
May 
June 
May 

J"«y 


25 
30 
26 

7 

%G 

10 

a; , 

12 


Gathered. 


August 

1 

August 

>5 

August 

I 

Augukt 

a* 

.My 

1 

July 

?.8 

J'^iy 

28 

October 

1 

July 

IC 

!      •! 


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■ 


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56 


NATURAL  AND    CIVIL 


ginning  of 


HE  frosts  commonly  cease  about  the  bc- 
June,  and  come  on  again  between 
the  first  and  the  middle  of  September.  When 
they  first  come,  they  appear  not  on  the  hills,  or 
highest  parts  of  the  trees,  but  in  tlie  low  and 
^vet  lands,  and  on  the  lowest  parts  of  the  trees. 
When  a  fog  hes  along  the  low  lands  adjoining 
to  a  river,  when  the  winds  are  high,  and  when 
the  lands  are  but  paitly  or  newly  cleared,  the. 
frosts  are  retarded  or  prevented  ;  and  do  not 
appear  so  soon,  or  so  great,  as  in  clear,  low,  and 
wet  places.  These  circumstances  seem  to  ex- 
plain the  reason  m  hy  the  frosts  are  first  seen  not 
on  the  high,  but  on  the  low  lands.  The  dews 
and  vapours  are  the  most  dense  and  abundant, 
in  those  places  ;  much  more  so  than  they  are  at 
higlier  altitudes,  or  upon  the  hills.  The  first 
cfiects  of  the  frost  are  not  sufficient  to  freeze 
the  leaves  of  the  trees,  or  other  vegetables. 
The  cold  at  first  avails  only  to  eflect  the  congel- 
ation of  the  dew^  and  vapour  ;  as  these  are  chief- 
ly to  be  found  in  the  low  and  moist  lands,  and 
not  higher  than  tb.c  lowest  limbs  of  the  trees, 
these  are  the  places  where  the  first  effects  of  the 
frosts  appear,  A  high  w  ind  serves  to  prevent 
these  effects,  by  carrying  off  the  dew  and  va- 
pours ;  and  a  fcg  detains  the  heat  in  amazing 
quantities,  and  prevents  its  flowing  oft'  from  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  either  so  rapidly,  or  in  such 
quantities,  as  to  occasion  a  frost. 

In  those  places  where  the  earth  is  not  cover- 
ed with  snow,  the  frost  penetrates  several  feet 
below  the  surface.  In  the  winter  of  1789  there 
was  but  little  snow  at  Rutland  ;  and  the  sur-^ 
face  of  the  earth  was  frozen  almost  the  Afholc 


'  4 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


57 


winter.  On  March  the  19th  the  ground  was 
frozen  to  the  depth  of  three  feet  and  eight  in- 
ches. The  ice  in  the  lakes  and  stagnant  wa- 
ters, is  generally  frozen  in  the  course  of  the 
winter,  about  thirty  inches  thick  ;  in  the  rivers 
and  streams  it  is  about  twenty  four  ;  and  com- 
monly goes  off  the  last  week  in  March. 

The  severest  cold  of  our  winters  never  kills 
any  of  our  young  trees,  and  seldom  freezes  any; 
of  our  young  cattle,  although  they  are  not  hous- 
ed during  the  winter.  Nor  is  the  cold  so  af- 
fecting to  the  human  body,  as  the  extremes, 
and  sudden  changes  from  heat  to  cold,  on  the 
sea  coasts.  From  the  time  that  the  winter  first 
sets  in,  until  it  breaks  up,  we  have  generally  a 
settled  steady  cold  ;  for  the  most  part  without 
any  thaw,  and  with  but  a  few  days  in  which  the 
snow  melts  at  all.  During  this  period  we  be- 
come accustomed  to  the  weather,  and  every 
thing  in  our  feeling,  and  clothing  is  adapted  to 
a  steady  and  severe  cold.  Such  a  steady ,'^qual 
temperature,  is  far  more  comfortable  than  those 
great  and  sudden  changes  which  take  place, 
where  the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold  are  fre- 
quently succeeding  each  other. 

The  temperature  of  the  American  climate  is 
so  different  in  different  parts  of  the  same  state, 
and  often  in  the  same  latitude,  tliat  it  camiot  be 
well  understood,  but  by  viewing  it  in  its  varia- 
tions through  the  different  parts  of  the  northern 
continent.  The  following  table  is  designed  to, 
exhibit  such  a  compai'ative  view. 


Ill 


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HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


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The  winds  in  North  America  receive  tlieir 
general  direction  from  the  situation  of  the  sea 
coasts,  mountains,  and  rivers.  These  are  veiy 
much  from  the  southwest  to  northeast.  Tiie 
most  prevalent  of  our  winds,  are  either  parallclt 
with,  or  perpendicular  to  diis  course  ;  or  rather, 
they  are  from  the  northeast,  east,  southwest  and 
northwest.  More  than  one  half  of  the  winds 
which  blow  during  the  year,  arc  from  that  quar- 
ter which  lies  between  the  southwest  and  north- 
west. The  west  and  nui  thwest  winds  are  drj', 
cooling  and  elastic.  These  winds  always  begin 
at  the  sea  coast.  Those  from  the  south  and 
soutwest  are  more  warm,  moist  and  relaxing* 
The  easterly  winds  seldom  extend  so  far  from 
the  sea  coast  as  Vermont.  I'hey  not  only  lose 
their  distressing  chill  and  dampness,  as  they  ad- 
vance into  the  country,  but  they  seldom  reach 
so  far  as  Connecticut  river  ;  and  they  are  un- 
known on  the  west  side  of  the  green  mountains, 
Tiie  winds  seem  to  observe  something  like  q; 
regular  course,  during  the  day.  At  sunrise 
there  generally  seems  to  be  a  calm  ;  about 
seven  or  eight  o'clock,  the  wind  begins  to  rise, 
which  at  nine  or  ten  becomes  a  fresh  breeze  ; 
and  increases  until  one  or  two  o'clock  :  From 
about  three  or  four,  the  wind  decreases  until 
eight  or  nine  in  tlic  evening  ;  when  it  again  be- 
comes calm,  and  continues  thus  through  the 
night.  This  general  routine  seems  to  be  ob- 
served more  generally  in  the  latter  part  of  win- 
ter, and  in  the  spring,  than  at  other  times  of  the 
year.  But  there  are  times  in  those  seasons  of 
the  year,  when  the  wind  rages  without  much 
intermission  for  two  or  three  days  together. 


.11  ' ' 


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60 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


^  A  general  table  of  their  erections  at  different 
jplaces  u))on  the  continent,  .AH  give  the  best 
Views  of  their  comparative  courses. 


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HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        61 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


The  quantity  of  rain  which  falls  at  those 
placco  in  North  America  where  meteorological 
observations  have  been  made,  has  been  found 
to  be  more  than  double  to  that  which  generally 
falls  in  the  same  latitude  in  Europe.  We  can- 
not well  account  for  this,  without  supposing 
that  the  immense  forests  of  America,  supply  u 
larger  quantity  of  water  for  the  formation  of 
clouds,  than  the  more  cultivated  countries  of 
Europe.  Many  parts  of  America  do  however, 
buffer  severely  by  drought :  this  is  very  seldom 
the  case  in  Vermont.  The  lands  are  naturally 
moist,  the  mountains  supply  water  for  regular 
rains,  and  the  heat  of  the  sun  b  not  so  intense 
as  suddenly  to  disperse  the  vapours,  dry  up  the 
waters,  or  parch  the  land.  These  kinds  of  ob- 
servations will  be  reduced  to  the  smallest  com- 
pasSj  and  give  the  most  complete  comparative 
view,  by  exhibiting  them  in  the  form  of  a  gene- 
ral table. 


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HISTORY  OF   VERMONT. 


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64 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


During  three  months  in  the  year,  this  part 
of  America  is  covered  with  snow.  On  the 
mountains  the  snow  is  generally  from  two  and 
an  half  to  four  and  an  half  feet  deep  ;  and  does 
not  go  off  until  after  the  middle  of  April.  In 
the  lower  grounds,  the  snow  for  the  most  part, 
is  from  one,  to  two  and  an  half  feet  deep  ;  and 
remains  until  about  the  twentieth  of  March.... 
The  advantage  derived  lu  the  earth  from  the 
quantity  and  duration  of  the  snow,  is  every 
where  apparent.  As  soon  as  it  is  melted  on  the 
mountains,  the  earth  appears  to  be  greatly  fer- 
tilized :  the  spring  comes  on  immediately  ; 
and  the  vegetables  of  every  kind  are  green  and 
flourishing.  With  a  very  little  cultivation,  the 
earth  is  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the  seed  ; 
and  the  vegetation  becomes  extremely  quick 
and  rapid. 

The  effects  being  so  apparent,  a  general 
opinion  seems  to  have  taken  place,  that  the  snow 
communicates  to  the  earth  some  nitrous  salts  or 
enriching  substance  which  tends  to  increase  its 
fertility.  In  February  1791,  I  melted  as  much 
snow  as  afforded  six  gallons  of  water.  The 
snow  was  collected  as  it  was  falling  :  Being 
evaporated  there  remained  eleven  grains  of  cal- 
carious  earth,  five  grains  of  an  oily  substance, 
and  two  grains  of  saline  matter.  The  fertilizing 
effect  of  snow^  cannot  therefore  be  derived  from 
any  nitrous  salts,  which  it  receives  or  contains 
when  it  is  falling  through  the  atmosphere. 
Suspecting  it  might  acquire  some  saline  mix- 
tures by  laying  on  the  earth,  January  30,  1792, 
in  an  open  field  covered  with  grass,  I  collected 
as  much  of  the  snow  which  lay  next  to  the  earthy 


HISTORY  OF   VER^IOXT. 


^3J 


as  produced  six  gallons  of  water.  This  snow 
spread  over  an  area  of  sixteen  square  feet,  and 
jiad  lain  upon  the  ground  fifty  nine  days.  Upon 
evaporating  the  water  there  A^-as  not  more  saline 
matter,  or  calcarious  earth,  than  in  the  former 
experiment  ;  but  a  much  larger  quantity  of  oily 
substance.  The  oil  was  of  a  dark  brown  colour 
not  inflammable,  and  weighed  four  pennyweights 
and  nine  grains,  troy  weight.  From  the  form- 
er experiment,  it  appears  that  the  biggest  part 
of  this  oily  matter  accrued  to  the  snow  after  it 
had  fallen  upon  the  earth  :  And  to  this  oily 
substance,  is  probably  to  be  imputed  that  dirty 
or  sooty  appearance,  which  the  snow  is  general- 
ly observed  to  have,  after  it  has  begun  to  thaw. 
If  the  snow  M'hich  I  removed  coiitaincd  the 
same  quantity  of  oil  as  that  \vhich  I  exc>mined, 
a  considerable  nutriment  might  be  preserved  to 
the  earth  from  this  cau.-.e.  The  depth  of  the 
snow  was  thirty  inches  :  The  depth  of  that 
quantity  which  I  collected  to  melt,  as  nearly  as 
I  could  determine,  was  three  inches.  This 
will  give  two  ounces,  three  pennyweights  and 
eighteen  grains,  as  the  qu  i  tity  of  mucilaginous 
matter,  which  Avould  have  (itvjcended  upon  six- 
teen square  feet  of  tlvL  enrtli,  from,  the  quantity 
of  snow  that  was  then  urxri  the  9:round. 

While  the  snow  tlius  prevents  all  waste 
from  the  surface  of  the  cr^rth,  it  periorms  anoth- 
er and  more  importan.  office,  that  of  preserving 
its  internal  heat.  The  internal  parts  of  the 
earth  through  the  territory  of  Vermont,  are 
he.ated  to  about  the  forty  fourth  degree  of  Faren- 
heit's  thermometer.  Wh^n  the  heat  of  the  at- 
inospherc  is  greater  thun  this,  a  part  of  that 


I 


■>i 


66 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


heat  ^vill  flow  into  the  earth,  and  thus  the  heat 
of  the  earth  will  be  increased.  When  the  heat 
of  the  atmosphere  is  less  than  forty  four  degrees, 
tlie  heat  will  flow  out  of  the  earth  into  the  at- 
mosphere, and  in  this  way  the  internal  parts  of 
the  earth  will  be  losing  their  heat,  or  becoming 
colder.  This  is  the  case  during  the  winter 
months  ;  or  rather,  from  the  middle  of  October, 
to  the  beginning  of  April.  Hence  the  surface 
of  the  earth  when  exposed  to  the  atmosphere, 
becomes  froze^i  to  a  greater  or  less  depth,  ac- 
cording to  the  degree  and  duration  of  the  cold. 
The  snow  tends  very  much  to  prevent  this. 
By  covering  over  the  surface  of  the  ground  a 
considerable  depth,  the  snow  by  its  nature  and 
colour,  prevents  the  internal  heat  of  the  earth 
from  flowing  into  the  colder  atmosphere,  and 
the  atmosphere  from  coming  into  contact  with 
the  earth.  In  this  way  while  the  earth  is  cov- 
ered with  a  deep  snow,  its  heat  is  preserved, 
and  the  surface,  in  the  coldest  weather,  is  kept 
warm.  To  ascertain  to  what  degree  the  heat 
oftiie  earth  was  affected,  by  the  quantity  of 
snow  that  lay  upon  it,  on  January  14,  1791  (an 
extreme  cold  winter)  I  dug  through  the  frozen 
surface  in  a  plain  open  field,  where  the  snow 
had  been  driven  away  by  the  wind,  and  found 
the  ground  was  frozen  to  the  depth  of  three 
feet  and  five  inches.  In  the  woods,  where  the 
snow  ^v^as  three  feet  deep,  I  found  on  the  sam^:" 
day  the  heat  of  the  earth,  six  inches  btloiv  the 
surface,  was  thirty  nine  degrees.  The  surface 
of  the  earth  had  been  frozen  to  this  depth,  be- 
fore it  was  covered  with  snow.  The  host  was 
not  only  extracted,  but  the  surface  of  the  carllr 


♦  s; 


r    I 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT. 


g; 


was  heated  seven  decrees  above  the  freezing 
point,  in  consequence  of  the  snow  with  which 
it  was  covered. 

This  will  help  us  to  account  for  the  benefi- 
cial effects,  which  are  derived  from  the  snow, 
in  all  cold  climates.  Different  degrees  of  heat 
are  necessary,  for  the  preservation  and  t^ro\\'th 
of  different  vegetables.  None  'of  them  will 
grow  when  they  are  frozen  ;  and  most  of  them 
will  perish  when  the  cold  at  their  roots  is  veiy 
severe.  A  thick  covering  of  snow  prevents 
these  effects.  The  earth  is  kept  open,  and  the 
roots  of  the  vegetables  are  preserved  compara- 
tively warm.  The  snow  is  continually  meltintr 
at  the  surface  of  the  earth  :  It  moistens,  and 
enriches  the  soil  ;  keeps  off  the  frost  and  ^vind, 
and  prevents  all  evaporation  from  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  The  earth  thus  prepared  by  heat 
and  moisture,  and  a  collection  of  all  its  effluvia, 
is  in  a  lit  state  for  that  sudden  and  rapid  veget- 
ation, which  takes  place  in  all  cold  climates, 
immediately   upon    the    melting  of  the    snow. 

The  weather  is  generally  fair  in  the  winter  ; 
and  often,  with  an  hazy  atmosphere.  The 
snows  are  frequent,  but  they  generally  come  in 
small  quantities,  and  are  over  in  one  or  two 
hours  :  They  are  not  attended  with  high  winds, 
or  heavy  storms  ;  but  they  come  from  all  points 
of  the  compass,  except  the  east  ;  very  frequent- 
ly from  the  west,  and  northwest.  Hail  is  not 
uncommon  in  the  winter,  but  rain  is  not  fre- 
quent. About  the  middle  of  March  the  spring 
commences.  The  winds  and  weather  are  then 
very  unsettled  until  the  beginning  of  April.  In 
April  and  May  the  weather  becomes  mild  and 


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68 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


pleasant,  attended  with  frequent  showers.  In 
the  summer  months  the  weather  is  generally 
fair,  clear  and  settled.  The  winds  are  mostly 
from  the  soudi,  and  southwest  ;  the  heat  in  the 
middle  of  the  day  is  often  very  uncomfortable, 
but  the  nights  are  almost  ever  cool  and  pleasant. 
From  the  beginning  of  September,  until  the 
middle  of  October,  we  have  commonly  the  most 
agreeable  season,  with  moderate  westerly  winds, 
and  a  clear  sky.  The  latter  part  of  October 
and  November,  are  generally  cold,  wet  and  un- 
comfortable  ;  attended  w'ith  frequent  rains, 
some  snow  and  high  w  inds. 

Thunder  and  lightning  are  common  in  th4' 
months  of  May,  June,  July  aiid  August  ;  but 
seldom  in  the  other  months.  The  Aurora 
Borealis  is  the  most  common  in  the  months  of 
March,  September  and  October  ;  but  it  is  not 
unusual  at  other  times  of  the  year.  Heavy  and 
long  storms  of  snow,  or  rain,  are  scarcely  ever 
known  :  But  sudden  and  violent  whirlwinds  or 
hurricanes  sometimes  arise,  and  do  much  dam- 
age in  the  fall  ;  but  we  seldom  receive  any  in- 
jury from  the  hail.  Annual  courses  of  meteo- 
rological observations  properly  reduced,  will 
afford  the  most  complete  information  of  the 
weather,  and  meteor^i,  in  the  different  parts  of 
North  America. 


'«* 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT, 


69 


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NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


{    , 


The  above  accounts  are  designed  to  exliibU 
a  just  view  of  our  climate.  But  instead  of  re- 
maining fixed  and  settled,  tlic  climate  is  per 
petually  changing  and  altering,  in  all  its  cir- 
cumstances and  affections  :  And  this  change 
in.itead  of  being  so  slow  and  gradual,  as  to  be  a 
matter  of  doubt,  is  so  rapid  and  constant,  that 
it  is  the  subject  of  common  observation  and  ex- 
perience. It  has  been  observed  in  every  part 
of  the  United  States  ;  but  is  most  of  all  sensi- 
ble and  apparent  in  a  new  country,  which  is 
suddenly  changing  from  a  state  of  vast  unculti- 
vated wilderness,  to  that  of  numerous  settle- 
ments, arid  extensive  improvements.  When 
the  settlers  move  into  a  new  township,  their  first 
business  is  to  cut  down  the  trees,  clear  up  the 
lands,  and  sow  them  with  grain.  The  earth  is 
no  soojier  laid  open  to  the  influence  of  the  sim 
and  winds,  than  the  effects  of  cultivation  begin 
to  appear.  The  surface  of  the  earth  becomes 
more  warm  and  r/ry.  As  the  settlements  in-^ 
crease,  these  effects  become  more  general  and 
extensive  :  the  cold  decreases,  the  earth  and  air 
become  more  \yarm  ;  and  the  whole  tempera- 
ture of  the  climate,  becomes  more  equal,  uni- 
form and  moderate.  At  the  same  time  the 
lands  and  roads  become  more  dry  and  hard  : 
the  stagnant  waters  disappear,  sniail  stream.s  and 
rivulets  dry  up,  and  the  redundant  waters  arc 
carried  off.  The  number  and  quantity  of  the 
snows  decrease  ;  the  winds  receive  new  direc- 
tions, and  the  weather  and  seasons  become  much 
altered.  These  changes  every  where  attend  the 
cultivation  of  the  country  ;  and  have  formed  a 
remarkable  change  of  climate  iu  those  Stutepr 
which  have  been  long  settled. 


In 

which 
the  te 
crease 
thick, 
the  < 
appci 
of  thi^ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.         71 

In  this  change  of  cHmate,  the  first  effect 
which  is  generally  observed,  is  an  alteration  in 
the  temperature.  The  cold  of  the  winters  de- 
crease ;  the  rivers  are  not  frozen  so  soon,  so 
thick,  or  so  long,  as  they  formerly  were  ;  and 
the  effects  of  extreme  cold,  in  every  respect, 
appear  to  be  diminished.  A  remarkable  change 
of  this  kind,  has  been  observed  in  all  the  settled 
parts  of  North  America.  The  bays  nnd  rivers 
in  New  England,  are  not  frozen  so  hard,  or  so 
Urns-,  as  tluiv  were  at  the  first  settlement  of  the 
country.*  At  the  first  settlement  of  Philadel- 
phia, the  river  Delaware  was  commonly  cover- 
ed w  ith  ice,  about  the  middle  of  November, 
old  style. t  It  is  not  now  commonly  covered 
with  ice,  until  the  first  week  in  January.  Sim- 
ilar observations  have  been  made  with  regard  to 
the  ice  in  Hudson's  river.|  The  baron  Jjahon- 
tan  gave  this  account  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence, 
at  Quebec,  in  1690  :  "  I  put  to  sea  the  twen- 
tieth of  November,  new  style,  the  like  of  which 
was  never  seen  in  that  place  before.  The  ice 
had  covered  the  river  on  the  thirteenth  and  four- 
teenth of  November,  but  was  carried  off*  by  a 
sudden  thaw."l|  I'he  river  is  not  frozen  over 
now  until  the  latter  end  of  December,  or  the 
beginning  of  January.  The  ancient  people  at 
Quebec,  in  17-^^,  informed  Mr.  Kalm,  tliat  the 
u  inters  in  Canada  were  formerly  much  colder, 
than  they  were  then.^  Similar  observations 
ha\'e  been  made  in  almost  e\  ery  part  of  North 

*  Nev/  England's  Prospect, by  W.  Wood  ;  written  in  X633,p'  4, 

-f  Kalm's  Travels,  Vol.  i.  p.  410. 

%  Smith's  History  of  Ncwyork.  ^ 

II  \^)yages  to  North  America,  p.  l6j. 

^  Kalm'i  TravrU,  Vol.  II.  p.  287 


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NATURAL  AND    CIVIL 


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America,   -where    settlements   and    cultivation 
have  taken  place. 

Al TH o u G H  the  general  effect  has  been  evciy 
where  apparent,  it  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  asccr- 
tain  the  degree,  to  which  ihe  temperature  has 
changed,  in  any  particular  place.  When  oftr 
ancostois  first  came  into  America,  thermome- 
ters were  not  invented  :  And  they  have  not  left 
us  any  accurate  meteorological  remarks  or  ob- 
servationb,  from  which  \Ae  can  determine  the 
exact  degree  of  cold,  which  prevailed  in  their 
times.  Upon  looking  over  the  most  ancient 
writers  of  New  Englnnd,  the  only  account  I 
have  found,  v.hich  will  afford  anv  distinct  in- 
formation  upon  this  subject,  is  the  following 
passage  ;  referring  to  years  previous  to  1633. 
"  The  extremity  of  this  cold  weather  lastcth 
but  for  two  months,  or  ten  weeks,  beginning  m 
December,  and  breaking  up  the  tenth  day  oi' 
February  (2l3t  new  stile)  \\hich  hath  become  a 
passage  very  remarkable,  that  for  ten  or  a  dozen 
yeai's,  the  weather  hath  held  himself  to  his  day, 
unlocking  his  icy  bays  and  ri-\  ers,  which  are 
never  frozen  again  the  same  year,  except  there 
be  some  small  liost  until  the  middle  oi  March. ^'"^^ 
The  winter  is  less  severe  now  in  several  res- 
pects :  The  extremity  oT  the  cold  weather  does 
not  come  on  so  soon  by  several  weeks  ;  the 
bays  at  Boston,  instead  of  being  annually  cover- 
ed with  icc>  are  but  seldom  frozen  to  this  de- 
gree ;  and  they  do  not  continue  in  this  state  u 
longer  cimc  thsii  eight  or  ten  days.  In  the 
year  1762,  tlie  harbour  between  Boston  and 
Charlestown  was  frozen  to  such  a  degree,  that 


i 


*  Weed's  Prospect,  p.  4. 


horses 
or  six 
an  effe( 
cient  a( 
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this  sta 
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was  28 
grces. 
free  z  in 
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which 
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mean  1 
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grees 
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ffrccs. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT,         73 

horses  and  sleifi;'lis  passed  over  the  ice,  for  fivr 
or  six  days.  'J'his  w  as  the  bep;iniiini^  of  such 
an  effectj  as  that  which  is  mentioned  in  the  an- 
cient account.  The  ice  became  fixed  and  per- 
manent on  February  second  ;  and  continued  in 
tliis  state  until  February  10th.  During  that  time 
J  fbimd  the  lowest  degree  of  Farenheit's  ther- 
moTieter  lobe — 9  degrees  ;  the  greatest  degree 

and  the  mean  heat  was  13  de- 
It  may  be  presumed  therefore,  that  the 
freezing  of  the  bays  of  which  Wood  sj)eaks, 
could  not  have  taken  ^c,  or  continued,  in  a 
kss  degree  of  cold  tl  this.  This  will  give 
us  13  degrees  of  Farenheit's  thermometer,  as 
the  mean  heat  which  took  place  during  eight  or 
ten  weeks  of  the  winter,  so  far  back  as  ihe  year 
1630.  By  the  meteorological  observations 
which  I  made  in  the  University  at  Cambridge 
for  seven  years,  from  1780  to  1788,  I  found  the 
mean  heat  in  the  month  of  December  was  29 
degrees  4  tenths  ;  in  January  it  v\  as  22  de- 
grees 5  tenths ;  and  in  February  it  was  23 
degrees  9  tenths.  These  numbers  express 
the  present  temperature  of  the  winter  at  Boston, 
If  this  computation  be  admitted,  the  change  of 
temperature  in  the  winter,  at  Boston,  from  the 
year  1630  to  the  year  1788,  must  have  been 
from  ten  to  twelve  degrees. 

A  permanent  alteration  in  the  temperature  of 
the  climate  or  atmosphere,  supposes  an  alteration 
equally  great  and  permanent,  in  the  heat  of  the 
earth.  Whether  the  heat  of  the  earth  is  thus 
affected  by  cultivation,  and  what  will  be  its  ef- 
fects, I  endeavoured  to  ascertain  in  the  follow-, 
ing  m»inuer.     On  the  23d  of  May,  1789,  I  sunk 


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Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  872-4503 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


X  thermometer  to  the  depth  of  ten  inches  belovr 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  Upon  repeated  trial* 
the  quicksilver  stood  at  fifty  degrees  :  this  wa^ 
in  a  level  open  field,  used  for  pasture  or  grazing, 
and  fully  exposed  to  the  sun.  The  same  ex- 
periment was  then  made  in  the  woods,  where 
the  surface  of  the  earth  was  covered  with  trees, 
and  never  had  been  cultivated.  To  ascertain 
the  gradual  increase  of  heat  at  each  place,  the 
observations  were  often  repeated.  The  result 
was  as  follows. 

Time. 


May 


June 
July 
August 


Heat  in  the 

Heat  in  the 

Difference. 

Pasture. 

Woods. 

50® 

46^* 

6« 

57 

48 

9 

64 

51 

13 

62 

51 

11 

62 

51 

11 

651-2 

55  1-2 

10 

68 

58 

10 

591-2 

55 

41-2 

591-2 

SS 

41-2 

591-2 

55 

41-2 

49 

49 

0 

43 

43 

0 

43  1-2 

43  1.2 

0 

23 

28 

15 

27 

16 

SO 

15 

31 
September  15 
October       1 

15 
November   1 

16 

The  effect  of  cultivation  with  regard  to  the 
heat  of  the  earth,  so  far  as  it  can  be  collected 
from  these  experiments,  appears  to  be  this  : 
Exposing  the  land  to  the  full  force  of  the  solar 
rays  in  this  latitude,  will  produce  an  heat  at  the 
depth  of  ten  inches  below  the  surface,  ten  or 
eleven  degrees  greater  than  that  which  prevails 
in  the  uncultivated  parts  of  the  country  ;  and 


M 


•J 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


4^ 


this  effect  continues  while  the  solar  rays  are 
sufficient  to  increase  the  heat  of  the  earth. 
This  additional  heat  in  the  earth,  will  be  suf- 
ficient to  produce  the  same  alteration  in  the 
temperature  of  the  air  ;  for  whatever  degree  of 
heat  prevails  in  the  earth,  nearly  the  same  will 
be  communicated  to  the  lower  parts  of  the  at- 
mosphere. Thus  the  earth  and  the  air,  in  the 
cultivated  parts  of  the  country,  are  heated  in 
consequence  of  their  cultivation,  ten  or  eleven 
de^ees  more,  than  they  were  in  their  unculti- 
vated state :  It  should  seem  from  these  observa- 
tions that  the  effect,  or  the  degree  of  heat  pro- 
duced by  cultivation,  is  the  same  with  the 
change  of  climate,  that  has  taken  place  in  the 
eastern  part  of  Massachusetts. 

Another  remarkable  effect  which  makes 
part  of  the  change  of  climate,  and  always  attends 
the  cultivation  of  the  country,  is  an  alteration 
in  the  moisture  or  wetness  of  the  earth.  As 
the  surface  of  the  earth  becomes  more  warm,  it 
becomes  more  dry  and  hard,  and  the  stagnant 
waters  disappear*  Alterations  of  this  kind, 
have  been  common  and  great,  in  all  the  ancient 
settlements  in  the  United  States.  Many  of  the 
small  streams  and  brookft  are  dried  up  :  Mills, 
which  at  the  first  settlement  of  the  country, 
were  plentifully  supplied  with  water  from  small 
rivers,  have  ceased  to  be  useful.  Miry  places, 
and  large  swamps,  are  become  among  the  rich- 
est of  our  arable  lands.  In  the  new  settlements 
the  change  is  effected  in  two  or  three  }  ears  ; 
Fields  of  corn  and  wheat  are  attended  with  the 
most  rapid  vegetation,  and  the  greatest  increase, 
in  landsi  wherie  the  waters  five  or  six  years  ago, 


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NATURAL    AND    CIVIL 


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"were  stagnant,  and  in  such  quantities  as  to  be 
spread  over  the  largest  part  of  the  ground.  One 
of  the  first  effects  of  cultivation  is  the  dispersion 
of  these  waters,  and  a  change  in  the  soil,  from 
the  appearance  of  a  swamp,  to  that  of  a  dry  and 
fertile  field. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  cultivation 
operates,  to  produce  this  effect.  By  the  cut- 
ting down  of  the  trees,  the  dispersion  of  a  vast 
quantity  of  fiuid,  emitted  by  their  evaporation, 
is  prevented  ;  and  by  laying  the  lands  open  to 
the  influence  of  the  sun  and  winds,  the  evapor- 
ation of  the  stagnant  waters  is  greatly  promoted. 
The  effect  of  the  first,  from  experiments  which 
will  be  related  when  the  vegetable  productions* 
are  considered,  may  be  estimated  at  three 
thousand  and  eight  hundred  gallons  of  water 
thrown  off  from  the  trees  on  one  acre,  in  the 
space  of  twelve  hours,  in  hot  weather.  To  as- 
certain the  effect  which  might  arise  from  the 
latter,  on  June  27th,  1789,  a  fair,  calm  and  hot 
day,  I  placed  a  china  saucer  on  the  ground  in 
the  woods,  wh^re  it  was  covered  from  the  solar 
rays  by  the  trees,  the  leaves  of  which  at  the 
height  of  ten  or  twelve  feet,  were  very  thick. 
Another  saucer  in  all  respects  similar  to  this, 
was  placed  on  the  ground  in  an  open  field  ad- 
joining, where  it  was  fully  exposed  to  the  wind 
and  sun.  I  poured  into  each  of  them  equal 
quantities  of  water  ;  at  the  end  of  three  hours 
the  evaporation  from  the  latter,  was  to  that  from 
tlie  former,  as  six  eight  tenths  to  one.  With 
regard  then  to  the  moisture  or  wetness  of  the 
country,  it  appears  thnt  settlement  and  cultiva- 
tion will  be  sufficient  to  prevent  the  discharge 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        77 


•f  three  thousand  and  eight  hundred  gallons  of 
water,  over  one  acre  of  land,  in  12  hours,  during 
the  hot  weather ;  and  at  the  same  time  to  effect  the 
dispersion  of  6  times  and  8  tenths  as  much  water 
from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  as  would  have 
been  dispersed  in  its  uncultivated  state.  If  we 
may  judge  upon  a  matter  which  cannot  be  re- 
duced to  exact  calculation,  it  should  seem  that 
the  cause  was  here  equal  to  the  effect. 

A  change  in  the  climate  hath  also  been  man- 
ifest in  the  apparent  decrease  of  the  snow,  in  all 
the  ancient  cultivated  parts  of  the  United  States. 
Whether  there  has  been  any  alteration  in  the 
annual  quantity  of  rain  in  any  part  of  America, 
we  cannot  determine,  for  want  of  meteorologic- 
al observations  ;  but  a  great  decrease  of  snow 
has  been  observed  in  all  the  ancient  settlements. 
At  the  first  settlement  of  New  England,  the 
earth  was  generally  covered  with  snow  for  more 
than  three  months  in  the  year.  It  began  to  fal! 
in  large  quantities  by  the  first  of  December, 
and  seldom  went  off  until  some  time  in  March, 
This  is  yet  the  case  in  the  inland  and  mountain- 
ous parts  of  the  country.  The  snow  covers 
them  for  three  months,  and  is  scarcely  ever 
carried  off  by  a  thaw  until  the  spring  comes  on. 
In  those  parts  of  the  country  which  have  been 
long  settled  and  cultivated,  the  snows  have  been 
declining  for  many  years.  They  are  neither  so 
frequent,  deep,  or  of  so  long  continuance,  as 
they  were  formerly  :  And  they  are  yet  declin- 
ing very  fast  in  their  number,  quantity,  and 
duration.  This  event  is  derived  from  the  change 
of  temperature,  which  has  taken  place  in  the  at- 
mosphere ;  and  probably  will  keep  pace  exactly 
K 


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\\  ■  ; 


'*\ 


78 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I 


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t  " 


with  it.  There  has  also  been  an  apparent  alt'^r- 
ation  in  the  direction  of  the  winds.  The  preva- 
Icncy  and  extent  of  the  wester!)^  winds,  seem  to 
be  abating  :  Or  rather  tlie  easterly  winds  are 
certainly  increasiiw^  in  their  frequency  and  ex- 
tent. These  winds  are  now  very  frequent  in 
the  spring,  in  idi  that  part  of  the  country,  \\  hich 
lies  within  sixty  or  se%'enty  miles  of  the  sea 
coast.  Half  a  century  ago,  the  easterly  wands 
seldom  reached  farther  than  thirty  or  forty  miles 
from  the  sea  shore.  They  have  now  advanced 
as  far  as  the  mountains,  which  are  generally 
eighty  or  an  hundred  miles  from  the  ocean.  As 
the  country  becomes  settled  and  cleared,  they 
are  foimd  to  advance  more  and  more,  into  the 
internal  parts  of  the  country.  It  can  hardly  be 
doubted,  but  that  this  event  is  ow  ir»g  to  the  in- 
creasing cultivation  of  the  country.  As  the 
woods  are  cut  down,  the  earth  and  atmosphere 
become  more  heated  tlian  the  ocean  :  The  di- 
rection of  the  winds  will  of  course  be  from  the 
sea,  towards  the  land.  As  the  country  becomes 
more  settled  and  cleared,  it  is  orobable  these 
winds  will  continue  to  advance  further  towards 
the  west. 

The  same  causes  which  produce  a  change 
in  the  heat  of  the  earth,  in  its  v/etness,  in  the 
snow  and  winds,  will  produce  as  great  a  change 
in  the  weathei*  and  seasons.  While  the  state  of 
a  country  remains  unaltered,  the  general  course 
and  appearance  of  nature  ^vill  be  the  same,  from 
one  age  to  another.  Summer  and  winter,  sprii»g 
and  fall,  the  productions  of  the  earth,  the  state 
of  the*air  and  weather,  will  be  subject  to  but 
little  annual  alteration  or  change.    But  wliea 


- 


^  -4 


J 


HISTORY  OF  VERiMONT.         79 

the  whole  face  and  state  of  a  country  are  chang- 
ing, the  weatlier  and  seasons  will  albo  change 
with  them.  This  is  an  event  that  has  already 
taken  place  in  the  most  ancient  and  cultivated 
parts  of  America.  When  our  ancestors  first 
came  into  New  England,  the  seasons  and  weath- 
er were  uniform  and  regular.  The  winter  set 
in  about  the  beginning  of  December,  old  style, 
and  continued  until  tlie  middle  of  February. 
During  that  time  the  weather  was  generally  fair, 
and  cold,  and  without  much  change.  Towards 
the  end  of  February  the  winter  generally  broke 
up.  When  the  spring  capie  on,  it  came  on  at 
once  ;  without  repeated  ^nd  sudden  clianges 
from  heat  to  cold,  and  from  cold  to  heat.  The 
summer  was  extremely  hot  and  sultry,,  for  a 
month  or  six  weeks  ;  but  it  was  of  a  short  du- 
ration. The  autumn  commenced  about  the 
beginning  of  September  ;  and  the  harvest,  of  all 
kinds  was  gathered  by  the  end  of  that  month. 
A  very  different  state  of  things  now  takes 
place,  in  all  that  part  of  New  England,  which 
has  been  long  settled.  The  seasons  are  much 
changed,  and  the  weather  is  become  more  vari- 
able and  uncertain.  The  winter  is  intermixed 
with  great  and  sudden  thaws,  and  is  become 
much  shorter.  The  changes  of  weather  and 
temperature,  are  great  and  common  in  the 
spring  ;  and  at  that  season  there  is  generally  an 
unfortunate  fluctuation  between  heat  and  cold, 
greatly  unfavorable  to  vegetation,  and  the  fruits 
of  the  earth.  The  summers  are  become  more 
moderate  in  respect  to  the  extreme  heat  of  a 
few  weeks  ;  but  they  are  of  a  much  longer  du- 
ration.    The  autumn   commences,   and  ends, 


'  i  . 


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80 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


much  later  than  formerly  :  the  harvest  is  not 
finished  until  the  first  week  of  November  ;  and 
the  severity  of  winter  does  not  commonly  take 
place,  until  the  latter  end  of  December.  But 
the  whole  course  of  the  weather  is  become  more 
uncertain,  variable  and  fluctuating  than  it  was 
in  the  uncultivated  state  of  the  country. 

It  is  in  these  particulars,  the  change  that  has 
taken  place  in  the  heat  of  the  v?arth,  in  its  wet- 
ness, in  the  snow,  winds,  weather  and  seasons, 
that  the  change  of  climate  in  North  America 
has  principally  appeared.  That  this  change  of 
climate  is  much  connected  with,  and  greatly 
accelerated  by  the  cultivation  of  the  country, 
cannot  be  doubted.  But  whether  this  cause  is 
eufficient  to  account  for  all  the  phenomena, 
which  have  attended  the  change  of  climate  in 
the  various  parts  of  the  earth,  seems  to  be  un- 
certain,^  .-.,;.. 

•Appendix  No.  IL 


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U.J. 


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H, 


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ft  H 

MM 


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I' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


81 


CHAPTER     V. 


/ 1 


Vegetable  Pro  duct  ion  s..../T3/r5^  Trees, 
Esculent  and  Medicinal  Vegetables.  Bemarks 
on  the  Magjiitude,  JVumber,  •/Ige,  Evapora- 
tion, Emission  of  Air,  Heat,  and  Effect  of  the 
Trees. 

WHEN  the  Europeans  first  took  pos- 
session of  North  America,  it  was  one  continued 
forest,  the  greatest  upon  the  earth.  The  coun- 
try was  every  where  covered  with  woods,  not 
planted  by  the  hand  of  man  ;  but  derived  from, 
and  ancient  as  the  powers  of  nature.  The 
great  variety  of  plants  and  flowers,  the  immense 
numbers,  dimensions,  and  kinds  of  trees,  which 
spread  over  the  hills,  valleys  and  mountains, 
presented  to  the  eye,  a  most  magnificent  and 
boundless  prospect.  This  is  still  the  case  with 
the  uncultivated  parts  of  the  countr}^ 

Much  the  largest  part  of  Vermont  is  yet  in 
the  state,  in  which  nature  placed  it.  Unculti- 
vated by  the  hand  of  man,  it  presents  to  our 
view  a  vast  tract  of  woods,  abounding  with 
trees,  plants,  and  flowers,  almost  infinite  in 
number,  and  of  the  most  various  species  .nd 
kinds.  It  would  be  the  employment  of  many 
years,  to  form  a  complete  catalogue  of  them. 
I  shall  not  attempt  to  enumerate  any,  but 
those  whicli  are  the  most  common  and  useful. 


FOREST  TREES.      >•  )    '  rf 
THE  Trees  which  are  the  most  large  and  earn' 

mon  are  the  ;      ..,    . 

White  Pine.    Pimts  Strobus*   .v  -J^ 


1   I 


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82 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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Yellow  Pine.     Phitis  Pinca, 

Pitch  Pine.     /*/;/;^j  7W«.  > 

Lurch.     Pinus  Larix, 

Hemlock.     Pinus  Abies.     :.      .  i,    t 

White  Spruce.   }    n-       ,■,       /     .         .  -   .s 

Jilack  bpruce.     \  ...4^'. 

Fir.     Pinus  Balmmt'a.  '..liv..'^ 

White  MLij)le.     Acer  J\''eg undo.  . .:% 

Red  Maple.     Acer  Riibruni.  '-'>•■ 

Black  Maple.     Acer  Scwcharinunu 

White  Beech.  ?    r,  o  /    *• 

Red  Beech.      \   ^"S"'  ^iM*"-"- 

White  Ash.     Pnuvinus  Excelsior. 

Black  Ash.     PYaxinus  Americana.^ 

White  Birch.     Betula  Alba,   '  : 

Black  Birch.     Betula  M^a. 

Red  or  Yellow  Birch.     Betula  Lenta. 

Alder.     Betvla  Alnus,  > 

White  Elm.   >  ,r,  .       .        ;r   <. 

T,    1  x?A  c  Ulnnis  Americana,        , 

Red  Llm.       ^  .    ..i/i  I 

Black  Oak.     Quercus  Nts^ra,  ...      ^i    »  ^ut/f 

White  Oak.     Quercus  Alba.    .lU;  ;.I       :•:'•:';(!:■ 

Red  Oak.     Quercus  Rubra.  ■^'''^    •ShjiiVi 

Chesniit  Oak.     Quercus  Prinus.    :  :•;    r;   -.-r  n 

White  Hiccor)-,  or  Walnut.     Juglans  Albft:  vC 

Shag'bark .     Juglans  Alba^  cor t ice  squavwsa'),' f ■  r r ( 

Butternut.     Juglans  Alba^  cortice  cathartwQ,    :' 

Chesput.     Fugus  Castanea.  )  n  / '■        'i  .in.i'jv 

Buttonwood.     Plantaims  Occidentalis.     ' !-/!<::  I 

BasBwood,  or  lime  tree.     Tilia  Aviericana.    A] 

Hornbeam.     Carpinus  Betulus. 

Wild  Cherry,  several  species.    -  , 

Sassafras.     Laurus  Sassafras. 

White  Cedar.      Thuja  Occidentalis, 

Red  Cedar.     Juniperus  Virgiuiana 


niSTOUY  OF   VERMONT.        83 

M'liite  Poplar,  or  Aspen.     Populufi  Trcmuhu 
Hkick  Pojilar,  or  Balsam.     Populus  j\igru. 
Ki.cl  Willow.     Saii.r. 
Wliitc  AVilloAw     iSulix  Alba, 
lliickinalack. 

ESCULENT. 

THE  folhxvin^  are  simill  Trees^  Shrubs  or  VineSy 
valuable  on  account  of  their  salubrious  and 
p feasant  Fruit. 


Prunus  Sylvestris* 


Cerasus  Sylvestris. 


Red  Piumb. 

Yellow  Plumb. 

Thorn  Plumb. 

I'lack  Cherry. 

Red   Cherry. 

Choke    Cherry. 

Juniper.     Jumperus  Sabina, 

Hazlenut.     Qorylus  Avellana. 

Black  Currant.     Ribcs  Nigrum. 

Wild  Gooseberry.     Ribes  Glosularia. 

Whortleberry.    "I 

Bilberry.  \  ir      -  -        n         t 

Bluebcriy  >  l  accmium  Corymbostim. 

Chokeberr}-,        J 
Partridgeberry.     Arbutus  Firidls, 
Pigeonberry.     Cissus. 
Barberry.     Bcrberis  Fulgaris, 
Mulberry.     Moras  Nigra, 
Black  Grape.     Vitis  Labrusca. 
Fox  Grape.     Vitis  Vulpina* 
Black  Raspberry.     Rubus  Idaus. 
Red  Raspberry.     Rubus  Canadensis* 
Upright  Blackberry.     Rubus  Fruticosus* 
Running  Blackberry.     Rubus  Moluccanus* 
Brambleberry.     Rubus  Occidentalism 


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Uush  Cranberry.   \  ^«^"'""'"  "x/^^Of"^- 
Strawberry.     Fragaria  Fesca, 
Dcwberr^\     Rithus  Casius. 
Cloudberry.     Rubus  Vhamamoriis, 

These  fruits  are  in  great  abundance  in  the 
uncultivated  parts  of  the  country  ;  but  they 
seem  to  arrive  to  their  highest  perfection  of 
liiimbers,  magnitude  and  richness,  in  the  new 
fields  and  plantations.  There  arc  other  vegeta- 
bles which  are  also  esculent^  and  valuable,  chief- 
ly on  account  of  their  roots  or  seeds.  Among 
these  are  the 

Artichoke.     Helianthus  Ttiherosiis, 
Ground  nut.     Glicine  Apios. 

P    ,^      /^      *    {■  Convolvulas  Batatas* 

Wild  Leek. ' 

Wild  Onion. 

Wild  Oat.     Zizania  Aqtiatica, 

Wild  Pea. 

Wild  Hop.     Humulus  Lupuhis, 

Indian  Cucumber.     Medeola. 

MEDICINAL. 

Many  of  the  vegetables  which  are  indigenous  to 
this  part  of  America^  are  applied  to  Medicinal 
purposes.     Of  this  nature  are  the 

Bitter  Sweet.     Solanum. 
Angelica.     Angelica  Sylvestris. 
Black  Elder.     Sambucus  Nigra. 
Red  Elder.     Viburnum  Opulus, 
Sarsaparilla.     Aralia. 
Pettymorrel.    Aralia  Nigra, 


M  M 


Ihc 

icy 

of 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        85 

Solomon's  Seal.     Convallir'ta. 

Maiden  Hair.     Adlanthus  Pedants, 

Arsmart.     Polys^onum  Sagittatum* 

Wild  Rose.     Rosa  Sylvestris, 

Golden  Thread.     Nigella, 

Mallow.     Malva  Rotundifvlia* 

Marshmallow,     Althaa^ 

Lobelia,  several  species. 

Senna.     Cassia  Ligustrina. 

Clivers.     Gallium  Sptirium, 

Blue  Flag.     Iris. 

Sweet  Flag.     Acorits, 

Skunk  Cabba^  ..    Arum  Americanum- 

Garget.     Phytolacca  Decandra, 

Blood  Root.     Sanguinaria. 

Pond  Lily.     Nymphaa, 

Elecampane.     Inula, 

Black  Snake  Root.     Actea  Racemosa, 

Seneca  Snake  Root.     Polygala  Senega* 

Pleurisy  Root.     Ajclepias  Decumbens, 

Liquorish  Hoot. 

Dragon  Root.     Arum. 

Ginseng.     Panax  TrifoUum, 

Ginseng  was  formerly  esteemed  a  plant  in- 
digenous only  to  China  and  Tartary.  Li  1720, 
it  was  discovered  by  the  Jesuit  Lafitany  in  the 
forests  of  Canada  ;  and  in  1750,  it  was  found  in 
the  western  f ats  of  New  England.  It  grows 
in  great  plenty  and  perfection,  in  Vermont. 
The  root  has  many  virtues  ;  but  ;ve  do  not  find 
them  to  be  so  extraordinary,  as  the  Chinese 
have  represented.  It  was  a  valuable  article  in 
the  commerce  of  Canada  in  the  year  1752,  and 
large  quantities  were  purchased  in  this  state  but 

VOL.  I.  L 


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In 


a  few  years  aj^o  ;  an  injudicious  method  of  col. 
lecting,  curing  and  packing  it,  has  greatly  in- 
jured its  reputation  ;  this,  with  the  large  quan- 
tities in  which  it  was  exported,  have  nearly  de- 
stroyed the  sale. 

To  this  account  of  medicinal  plants,  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  subjcin  those,  which  in  their 
natural  state,  are  foinid  to  operate  as  poisons  ; 
the  most  of  which,  by  proper  preparations,  be- 
come valuable  medicines.  Of  these  we  have 
the 

Thorn  Apple.     Datura  Stramonium, 
Henbane.     Hyoacyamus  Niger. 
Nightshade.     Sohuum  Nigruvi, 
Ivy.     Hedcra  Helix. 
Creeping  Ivy.     llhus  Radicans. 
Swamp  Sumach.     Rhus  Toxicodeudrum, 
Baneberry.     Act  tea  Spicatn. 
White  Hellebore.     Vcratvum  Alhum, 

In  addition  to  these,  there  is  a  great  variety 
of  plants  and  flowers,  the  names  and  virtues  of 
which,  are  unknown.  Some  of  our  vegetables 
deserve  a  particular  description,  on  account  of 
their  uncommon  properties  :  Thus,  the  Bay  berry 
(myrica  cenfiraj  is  distinguished  by  a  fine  per- 
fume, and  a  delicate  green  wax.  The  Prickly 
Ash  is  valuable  for  its  uncommon  aromatic  pro- 
perties. The  Witch  Hazel  (liamamdh)  is  en- 
dowed with  the  singular  property  of  putting 
forth  its  blossoms,  after  the  frost  has  destroyed 
its  leaves.  The  Indian  Hemp  fasckpiasj  may 
be  wrought  into  a  fine,  and  strong  thread. 
The  Silk  Grass  another  species  of  the  asclepiaSy 
contains  a  fine  soft  down,  which  may  be  carded 
and  spun  into  an  excellent  wickyarn.     The  ber 


lies  of 

great 

in  sev< 

useful! 

botanil 

and  scl 

getabll 

most 

the  ^\ 

canno 


n: 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


87 


ries  of  the  common  Sumach  (rhm)  are  used  to 
great  advantage  in  medicinal  applications,  and 
in  several  kinds  of  dyes.  It  would  be  a  very 
useful,  but  a  laborious  employment,  for  the 
botanists  to  give  to  the  world  an  enumeration, 
and  scientific  description  of  our  indigenous  ve- 
getables. The  Flora  Americana,  would  be  the 
most  valuable  addition,  that  could  be  made  to 
the  works  of  the  celebrated  Linnaus :  But  it 
cannot  be  completed  without  the  united  assist- 
ance of  wealth,  genius,  time  and  labour. 

To  this  imperfect  catalogue  of  our  vegetables, 
I  shall  add  some  remarks  on  the  magnitude, 
number,  age,  evaporation,  emission  of  air,  heat, 
and  effect  of  the  trees. 

Magnitude.  The  magnitude  to  which  a 
tree  will  arrive,  depends  upon  the  nature  of  the 
tree,  and  of  the  soil.  The  following  are  the 
dimensions  of  such  trees  as  are  esteemed  large 
ones  of  their  kind,  in  this  part  of  America. 
They  do  not  denote  the  greatest,  which  nature 
has  produced  of  their  particular  species,*  but 
the  greatest  of  those  which  are  to  be  found  in 
most  of  our  towns. 


Trees, 

Pine, 

Maple, 

But(onwood, 

Elm, 

Hemlock, 

Oak, 

Bass\Tood> 

Ash, 

Birch, 


*  A  white  Pine  wag  cut  at  Dunstable  in  Newhamp$liire,in  I736,  tht 
diameter  of  which  \vas  seven  fcpt,  eifht  inches. 

Z>ou£ia«»'  Stimmary,Vol.  II.p.  53. 


Diameter. 

Hets[i 

Feet.         Inch. 

Felt 

6               0 

447 

5               9 

5              6 

S  . 

A               0 

n 

4               9 

4               0 

ii 

4               0 

4               0 

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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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Number.  The  number  or  thickness  of  the 
trees,  seems  to  depend  chiefly  on  the  richness 
of  the  soil.  In  some  parts  of  the  country  they 
are  so  thickj  that  it  is  with  difficulty  we  can  ride 
among  them.  In  other  places,  they  have  resolv- 
ed themselves  into  trees  of  large  dimensions, 
which  are  generally  at  the  distance  of  eight  or 
ten  feet  from  each  other.  On  one  acre,  the 
number  of  the  trees,  is  commonly  from  one 
hundred  and  fifty  to  six  hundred  and  fifty  ;  va- 
r}^ing  in  their  number,  according  to  the  richness 
of  the  soil,  and  the  dimensions  the  trees  have 
attained.  Estimating  a  cord  to  be  four  feet  in 
height,  and  width,  and  eight  feet  in  length,  the 
quantity  of  wood  which  is  generally  found  on 
one  acre,  is  from  fifty  to  two  hundred  cords  ; 
where  the  large  pines  abound,  the  quantity  of 
wood  is  much  larger  than  what  is  here  stated  ; 
but  these  trees  are  never  measured  as  cord 
ivood,  but  always  applied  to  other  purposes. 

Age.  There  is  a  circumstance  attending  the 
growth  of  trees,  which  serves  to  denote  their 
age,  with  great  accuracy.  The  body  of  a  tree 
does  not  increase  by  an  universal  expansion  of 
all  its  internal  parts,  but  by  additional  coats  of 
new  wood  :  And  tliese  are  formed  every  year, 
by  the  sap  ^vhich  runs  between  the  bark,  and 
the  old  wood.  When  a  tree  is  cut  down,  this 
process  of  nature  becomes  apparent  in  the  num- 
ber of  parallel  circles,  or  concentric  rings,  which 
spread  from  the  centre  to  the  circumference  of 
the  tree.  In  many  observations  made  by  oth- 
ers,  and  by  myself,  upon  trees  whose  ages  were 
known,  the  number  of  these  circles  was  found 
to  agree  exactly  with  the  age  of  the  tree.     By 


this 
the   pill 
forest, 
hundret 


the  sam 
the  proj 
lowing 
been  ol: 
state  of 
its  age 
time  of 
nearly  i 
vegetal 
has  attj 
heart. 

Ev/ 
are  oth 
getable 
their  e 


h* »' 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.        89 

this  method  of  computation,  I  have  found 
the  pine  to  be  the  most  aged  tree  of  our 
forest,  several  of  which  were  between  three 
hundred  and  fifty  and  four  hundred  years  of 
age.  The  largest  trees  of  other  species,  are 
generally  between  two  and  three  hundred  years. 
I  am  since  informed  by  James  Whelpley,  Esq.  of 
Hubbardton  that  this  is  not  correct  ;  that  he 
has  made  many  observations  of  this  kind,  and 
has  always  found  the  Oak  to  be  the  most  aged 
tree  of  the  forest.  By  their  rings  or  circles 
some  of  these  trees  appeared  to  him  to  be  more  than 
one  thousand  years  of  age  ;  and  that  some  of 
the  pines  were  of  more  than  600  years  growth. 
In  the  more  advanced  periods  of  vegetable  life, 
this  method  of  computation  often  fails  :  The 
decays  of  nature  generally  begin  in  the  central, 
which  are  the  most  aged  parts.  From  them, 
the  mortification  gradually  extends  to  others  ; 
and  thus,  the  internal  parts  of  the  tree,  die  in 
the  same  order  in  which  they  were  produced  ; 
the  progress  of  death,  regularly  and  steadily  fol- 
lowing the  same  order  and  course,  which  had 
been  observed  in  the  progress  of  life.  In  this 
state  of  a  tree,  no  computation  can  be  made  of 
its  age  :  But  it  seems  most  probable,  that  the 
time  of  its  natural  ir crease  and  decrease,  are 
nearly  the  same  ;  and  that  the  natural  period  of 
vegetable  life,  is  double  to  that,  which  the  tree 
has  attained,  when  it  first  begins  to  decay  at  the 
heart. 

Evaporation.  Besides  the  growth,  there 
are  other  processes  carried  on  by  nature  in  ve- 
getables, of  which  we  have  no  suspicion,  until 
their  effects  become  apparent.  ^  This  is  tlic  case 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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"witli  the  evaporation  which  takes  place  from  tlic 
woods,  during  the  summer  months.  ihery 
tree,  plant  and  vegetable,  is  then  pouring  into 
the  atm.osphere,  an  amazing  quantity  of  fluid. 
On  the  12th  of  June,  1789,  I  put  the  end  of  one 
of  tlie  limbs  of  a  small  maple  tree,  into  a  bottle 
containing  about  one  pint.  That  part  of  the 
limb  which  was  within  the  bottle,  contained  two 
leaves,  and  Qnc  or  two  buds.  The  mouth  of 
the  bottle  was  stopped  with  beeswax,  that  no 
vapour  might  escape.  In  five  or  six  minutes, 
the  inside  of  the  bottle  was  clouded,  with  a  very 
fine  vapour  ;  and  in  about  half  an  houi*,  small 
drops  began  to  collect  on  the  sides,  and  run 
down  to  the  bottom.  At  the  end  of  six  hours, 
I  weighed  the  water  which  had  been  collected 
in  the  bottle  during  that  time,  and  found  it  a- 
mounted  to  sixteen  grains,  troy  weight.  The 
tree  on  which  this  experiment  was  made,  was 
eight  inches  and  an  half  in  diameter,  and  thirty 
feet  in  height.  To  make  an  estimate  of  the 
quantity  of  water,  thrown  off  from  this  tree  into 
the  atmospliere,  in  a  given  portion  of  time,  1 
endeavoured  to  ascertain  the  number  of  lea\  cs 
which  it  contained.  With  this  view  (after  I 
had  made  some  other  experiments)  I  had  the 
tree  cut  down  ;  and  was  at  the  pains  to  count 
the  leaves,  which  it  contained  :  the  whole  num- 
ber amounted  to  twenty  one  thousand  one  hun- 
dred and  ninety  two  :  Admitting  the  evapora- 
tion to  be  the  same  from  the  other  leaves  of  the 
tree,  as  it  was  from  those  on  which  the  experi- 
ment was  made,  the  quantity  of  water  thrown 
off  from  this  tree  in  i^he  space  of  twelve  hours, 
wpuld  be  three  hundred  ai:d  thirty  nine  tliou- 


r-M   I) 


Ipora- 
lofthc 
:peri- 
irown 
lOurs, 
Itliou- 


IIISTORY  OF   VERMONT- 


91 


sand  and  seventy  two  grains.  Upon  examining 
the  number  and  dimensions  of  tlie  trees,  which 
covered  the  ground  where  I  made  tlie  experi- 
ment, I  think  it  would  be  a  moderate  computa- 
tion, to  estimate  them  as  equal  both  in  magni- 
tude and  extent,  on  every  square  rod,  to  four 
iiich  trees  as  that  which  I  had  examined.  This 
will  give  six  hundred  and  forty  such  trees,  for 
the  quantity  of  wood  contained  on  one  acre. 
This  estimation  is  less  than  the  quantity  of  wood, 
wiiich  is  generally  found  upon  one  acre  of  land 
in  this  part  of  America.  The  weight  of  one 
pint  of  water,  is  one  pound  avoirdupoise,  or 
seven  thousand  grains,  troy  weight  ;  and  eight 
such  pints  make  one  gallon.  Making  the  cal- 
culation upon  these  principles,  it  will  be  found 
tluit  from  one  acre  of  land  thus  covered  with 
trees,  three  thousand  eight  hundi*ed  and  seventy 
five  gallons  of  water  are  thrown  off  and  dispers- 
ed in  the  atmosphere,  in  the  space  of  twelve 
hours. 

This  computation,  will  not  appear  extrava- 
gant to  those,  who  have  seen  the  great  quantity 
of  juice,  which  naturally  flows  out  of  some  of 
our  trees,  when  tliey  are  tapped  in  the  spring. 
A  man  much  employed  in  making  maple  sugar, 
found  that  for  twenty  one  days  together,  one  of 
the  maple  trees  which  he  tended,  discharged 
seven  gallons  and  an  half  each  day.      A   large 
birch  which  was  tapped  in  the  spring,  ran  at  the 
rate  of  five  gallons  an  hour,  when  first  tapped ; 
,  eight  or  nine  days  after,  it  was  found  to  run   at 
I  the  rate  of  about  two  gallons  and   an   half  per 
I  hour ;  and  at  tlie  end  of  fifteen   days,   the  dis- 
charge continued  in  nearly  the  same   quantity. 


i 


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NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


The  sap  continued  to  run  four  or  five  weeks, 
and  from  the  rcmiirks  which  were  made,  it  was 
the  opinion  of  the  observer,  that  it  must  have 
yielded  as  much  as  sixty  barrels. 

The  consequence  of  this  waste  of  the  juices 
was  the  death  of  the  tree,  the  ensuing  summer. 
I  have  this  account  from  the  Hon.  Paul  Brig- 
hmiiy  Esq.  These  accounts  serve  to  show,  what 
a  quantity  of  fluid,  is  naturally  contained  in  some 
of  our  trees  ;  and  from  a  source  so  plentiful,  a 
copious  evaporation  might  naturally  be  expected. 

Emission  of  Air.  Another  curious  ope- 
ration,  which  nature  carries  on  in  vegetables,  of 
tiie  highest  use,  but  wholly  invisible  to  us,  is 
the  emission  of  a  large  quantity  of  air.  The 
tress,  vegetables  and  flowers,  v\hile  they  are  dis- 
charging a  large  quantity  of  water  ilito  the  at. 
mosphere,  are,  at  the  same  time  emitting  or 
throwing  off  a  much  larger  quaritity  of  air.  On 
the  15th  of  June,  1789,  I  put  the  same  part  of 
the  maple  tree  into  a  bottle,  as  I  had  done  in 
the  experiment  of  June  12th.  The  bottle,  with 
tlie  limb  of  the  maple  thus  enclosed,  was  then 
filled  up  with  water  ;  and  immersed  in  a  large 
drinking  glass,  which  had  been  filled  before : 
In  this  situation  the  bottle  was  inverted,  and 
fixed  so  as  to  have  its  mouth  about  three  inches 
under  the  surface  of  the  water,  in  the  drinking 
glass.  In  fifteen  minutes,  air  bubbles  began  to  | 
appear  around  the  leaves  of  the  maple  ;  and 
soon  after  to  ascend  to  the  upper  part  of  the 
bottle,  and  collect  into  large  bubbles  ;  which, 
as  they  increased,  resolved  themselves  into  one. 
At  the  end  of  six  hours,  I  found  the  quantity  of 
water  which  had  been  forced  out  of  the  bottle, 


by  the 

to  sixty 

fore,  es 

from  th 

of  wata 

ty  one  i 

the  sam( 

teen  tho 

gallons, 

twelve  1 

cred  wit 

this  air  i 

It  has  b 

times  as 

air  of  th 

mospher 

tion  of  ai 

of  bodies 

ways,  tij 

so  greatl; 

soon  bee 

inhabitan 

Nature 

purpose, 

new  coui 

bles  perp 

and  in  th 

from  one 

wanted. 

Heat. 
rations  ar 
the  great( 
ferent  ve 
heat,  or 
greatest 

VOL.  I 


>  .f 


I "  j 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        93 

by  the  air  which  was  collected  in  it,  amounted 
to  sixty  one  grains.  The  quantity  oiair  there- 
fore, estimated  by  its  bulk,  which  was  emitted 
from  the  limb  of  the  tree,  was  to  the  quantity 
of  water  thrown  off  from  the  same  limb,  as  six- 
ty one  to  sixteen.  Making  the  calculation  in 
the  same  manner  as  before,  this  will  give  four- 
teen thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy  four 
gallons,  as  the  quantity  of  air,  thrown  off  in 
twelve  hours,  from  one  acre  of  land,  thus  cov- 
ered with  trees.  The  purity  and  salubrity  of 
this  air  is  as  remarkable  as  the  quantity  of  it. 
It  has  been  found  that  an  animal  will  live  five 
times  as  long  in  this  kind  of  air,  as  in  common 
air  of  the  best  quality.  The  purity  of  the  at- 
mosphere, is  constantly  impaiied  by  the  respira- 
tion of  animals,  by  combustion,  the  putrefaction 
of  bodies,  and  by  various  other  cau  es.  In  such 
ways,  the  air  over  large  and  popuhAis  cities,  is 
so  greatly  and  constantly  clF.  upted,  that  it  wou'd 
soon  become  unwholesome  and  noxious  to  the 
inhabitants,  if  it  was  not  removed,  or  purified. 
Nature  has  made  abundant  provision  for  this 
purpose,  in  the  immense  quantities  of  air,  which 
new  countries  supply.  The  trees  and  vegeta- 
bles perpetually  produce  it,  in  large  quuntiiies, 
and  in  the  purest  state  ;  and  the  winds  carry  it 
fronn  one  country  to  another,  where  it  is  most 
wanted. 

Heat.  The  principle  by  which  these  ope- 
rations are  carried  on,  and  which  seems  to  have 
the  greatest  effect  in  vegetation,  is  heat.  Dif- 
ferent vegetables  require  different  degrees  of 
heat,  or  different  climates,  to  give  them  their 
greatest  degree   of   increase,    uud  perfection, 

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All  of  them  cease  to  grow,  when  their  roots  are 
in  a  state  of  congelation.  As  soon  as  the  \varmth 
of  the  spring  comes  on,  the  sap  begins  to  as- 
cend in  their  trunks,  and  branches  :  A  fermen- 
tation takes  place  in  all  theil*  juices,  and  the  ve- 
getation ]:)ecomes  more  or  less  rapid,  as  the 
heat  of  the  season  advances.  In  Vermont,  a- 
bout  the  tenth  of  May,  the  Maple,  Xvhich  is  one 
of  the  most  numerous  and  fbrward  trees  of  th© 
forest,  begins  to  put  forth  its  leaves.  In  one 
Of  two  days  after,  the  whole  body  of  the  woods, 
appear  of  a  beautiful  light  green  ;  and  are  con- 
stantly growing  of  a  darker  colour,  for  ten  or  fif- 
teen days,  when  the  darkest  shades  become 
fixed.  During  this  period,  the  juices  of  the 
trees  appear  to  be  in  a  state  of  high  fermenta- 
tion, their  internal  heat  increases,  and  the  effects 
of  their  vegetation  appear  in  an  infinite  variety 
of  buds,  leaves  and  flowers.  To  ascertain  the 
degrees  of  heat,  in  different  trees,  at  different 
times  of  the  vear,  and  to  mark  their  effects  on 
the  leaves,  and  fruits,  the  following  experiments 
were  made.  With  an  auger,  of  one  inch  di- 
ameter, I  bored  an  hole  twelve  inches  long,  into 
the  body  of  the  tree  :  In  this  hole,  I  enclosed  a 
thermometer  of  Farenheit^s  scale,  stopping  the 
orifice  with  a  cork,  until  the  quicksilver  had 
acquired  the  degree  of  heat,  which  prevailed  in 
the  internal  part  of  the  tree.  The  result  of 
these  experiments,  is  set  down  in  the  following 
table. 


t!      " 


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1  , 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.        dS 


Time 
3789. 

Heat 

in    a 

Maple, 

)z6 

May  >  17 
Sa8 

58 

June  30 

7* 

July  30 

70 

8(pt.  15 

6l 

October  16 

45 

Kovcmbcr  16 

43  l-l 

Heat  I 
In  u 


60 


67 
56 

4Si-a 


Heat  '  Ilcaf 
in  a  in  an 
I'inc.      Ash. 


60 


60 


I'i     76 


69 


6ii.a 


46 


681., 


591-3 


Remarks  on  the  state  of 
the  Trees. 


47 


431-1 


Ajl-l   4JI-a 


l-e;ivcs  of  the  Maplct 
abaut  one  sixth  of  their 
natural  growth.  The 
other  trees  just  in  their 
bud,  without  any  leaves. 

Leaves  on  lacb  treei 
fully  grown. 

iNo  attpt'urance  of  de- 
cay in  tne  Icavei. 

Leaves  on  the  Maple, 
Birch,  and  Ash,  begin  to 
dccsy,  and  turn  white. 

Leaves  of  the  Maple 
turned  yellow,  and  begin 
to  fall.  Leaves  of  the 
Birch  turned  white,  and 
dead ;  and  about  one  half 
uf  them  fallen.  Leaves 
of  the  Ash,  all  fallen. 
Lcavcii  of  the  Pine,  green 
through  the  year. 

No  Laves  on  the  Ma- 
ple, Birch,  or  Ash.  The 
heat  of  the  trees  become 
exactly  the  sajnc  with 
that  of  the  earth,  at  the 
d^'pth  of  ten  inches  be* 
low  the  surface. 


From  these  observations  it  sliould  seem, 
that  the  temperature  or  heat  of  trees,  is  not  the 
same  as  that  of  the  earth,  or  atmosphere  ;  but 
is  a  heat,  pecuHiu*  to  this  class  of  bodies.  It  is 
probably  the  same,  in  all  trees  of  the  same  kind, 
in  similar  circumstances  and  situations.  The 
degree  and  variations  of  it,  seem  to  depend  on 
the  fermentation  of  tlie  juices,  and  the  state  of 
vegetation.  It  is  not  improbable  the  heat  of 
the  same  kind  of  trees,  may  be  different,  in  dif- 
ferent latitudes  :  Whether  this  is  the  case  or 
not,  can  be  known  only  by  observations,  made 
in  diftlrent  countries.  This  heat  which  prevails 
in  trees,  seems  to  be  the  great  principle  or  a^ent, 
by  which  the  two  fluids  of  water  and  air,  arc 


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separated  from  one  another,  and  emitted  from 
the  trees.  The  quantity  of  water  evaporated 
from  the  trees  on  one  acre,  in  twelve  hours,  wc 
have  found  to  be  three  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  seventy  five  gallons  :  That  of  air,  fourteen 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy  four  gal. 
Ions.  Before  the  evaporation,  both  these  fluids 
seem  to  have  existed  together  in  a  fixed  state  ; 
making  a  common  mass,  every  where  dispersed 
through  the  body,  limbs,  and  leaves  of  the  trees. 
When  the  heat  of  the  internal  part  s  of  the  trees, 
became  from  fifty  eight  to  sixty  degrees  of  Far- 
enheit's  thermometer,  the  buds  Mere  formed, 
the  leaves  put  forth,  and  the  one  fluid,  seems  to 
have  been  separated,  or  formed  into  the  two 
fluids,  of  water  and  air.  It  seems  probaljle  from 
this,  that  both  these  fluids  had  the  same  origin, 
that  heat  was  the  principle,  or  cause  by  ^vhich 
they  were  separated  ;  and  that  about  iifty  eight, 
is  the  degree  of  heat,  which  is  necessary  to  be- 
gin the  separation  of  the  air  from  the  water. 

Effect.  The  effect  of  this  perpetual  vege- 
tation, growth,  and  decay  of  vegetables,  is  an 
extreme  richness  and  iertility  of  soil.  Neither 
destroyed  or  removed  by  the  hand  of  man,  the 
vegetable  productions  of  the  uncultivated  parts 
of  America,  return  to  the  earth  by  decay  and 
death,  and  corrupt  on  the  surface  from  wliich 
they  grew.  It  is  not  only  from  the  earth,  but 
from  the  air  and  water,  that  trees  and  plants  de- 
rive their  nourishment,  and  increase  :  And  \^  here 
310  waste  has  been  occasioned  by  man  or  other 
animals,  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  vegetables 
snay  return  more  to  the  earth,  than  they  have 
taken  from  it ;  and  in&tead  of  serving;  to  iui« 


.;  nil 


Il.\ 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.        97 

povcris?!,  operate  to  render  it  more  ricli  and  fer- 
tile.  Thus  docs  the  boil,  in  ihe  uncultivated 
parts  of  the  country,  from  ai;t  to  age  derive  in- 
crease, richness  and  fertility,  from  the  life, 
growth,  death  and  corruption  of  her  vegetables. 
This  effect  has  been  so  great  in  America,  that 
when  our  lands  are  first  cleared  of  the  wood, 
we  always  find  a  black,  soft,  rich  soil,  of  five 
or  six  inches  depth  ;  wholly  formed  of  deca}ed 
or  rotten  leaves,  plants,  and  trees.  The  ex- 
treme richness  of  this  factitious  soil,  produces  a 
luxuriancy  of  vegetation,  and  an  abundance  of 
increase  in  the  first  crops,  which  exceeds  any 
thing  that  can  afterwards  be  procured,  by  all 
the  improvements  of  agriculture. 

Powers  of  Vegetable  Life.  The 
power  with  which  nature  acts  in  the  productions 
of  vegetable  life,  in  this  part  of  America,  may 
be  deduced  from  such  circumstances  as  have 
been  mentioned  :  From  the  immense  extent  of 
our  forests  ;  from  the  magnitude,  number,  and 
variety  of  our  trees,  and  plants  ;  from  their  rapid 
increase,  and  duration  ;  and  from  the  total  want 
of  sandy  deserts,  and  barren  places.  These  and 
other  circumstances,  denote  an  energy,  a  power 
in  the  vegetable  life,  which  nature  has  never  ex- 
ceeded in  the  same  climate,  in  any  other  part  of 
the  globe. 


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CHAPTER   VI. 

Native  A  v  i  Ar  /  i,  s  .  ytft  account  of  the  Quad- 
rupeda  ;  with  Ohservat'iovs  on  their  J'hnnnera- 
tion^  Origin^  JWqration^  S/jccics^  Magnitude^ 
Dispositkni^  and  ifiiduph/ing  Poxvtr,  The 
Birds f  lushes,  Reptiles  and  Insects. 

THE  unculti\  ated  state  of  America  was 
favourable  to  tlic  productions  of  animal  life.  A 
Roil  naturally  rieh  and  fertile,  and  powers  of  ve- 
getation extremely  vigorous,  produced  tliosc 
immense  forests,  wliieh  spread  over  the  conti- 
nent. In  these,  a  ffrcat  varietv  and  number  of 
animals  had  tlieir  residence.  Fed  by  the  hand 
and  productions  of  nature,  immolested  but  by  a 
few  and  unarmed  men,  the  productions  of  ani- 
mal life  every  where  aj)peared,  in  the  various 
forms  of  cjuadrupeds,  birds,  fishes,  and  insects  ; 
and  their  increase  and  multiplication,  became 
quick  and  rapid. 

QUADRUPEDS. 

Of  that  species  of  animals  which  arc  known 
by  the  name  of  quach'upeds,  America  contains 
nearly  one  half :  Of  these  about  thirty  six,  are 
found  in  Vermont.  Out  forests  alford  shelter 
and  nourishment  for  the  moose,  bear,  wolf,  deer, 
fox,  wild  cat,  racoon,  porcupine,  woodehuck, 
skunk,  martin,  luu-e,  rabbit,  weasel,  ermine, 
squirrel,  mole,  and  mouse.  In  our  rivers, 
ponds,  and  lakes,  the  beaver,  muskrat,  mink, 
and  otter,  are  to  be  found  in  large  numbers. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


91* 


The  larfjcst  nnimal  v.hich  h  known  in  Ver- 
mont is  the  Moose.  It  seems  to  be  of  the  same 
species  as  the  Klk  ;  and  in  i^s  j^eneral  foiin,  it  re- 
sembles the  horse.  Hi:  head  is  lnrp;e,  the  neck 
short  ;  witli  a  thick,  short,  nnd  iij)rip;ht  mane^ 
the  eyes  arc  small,  llic  cars  arc  a  foot  lonj^^ 
vcr\'  broad,  and  thick  :  under  the  throat,  there 
is  a  fleshy  protuberance  ;  the  nostrils  are  large  ; 
the  upper  lip  square,  and  hangs  over  the  lower. 
His  horns  are  palmated,  and  when  fully  j;rown 
are  about  four  or  five  feet  from  the  head  to  the 
extremity  :  There  are  several  shoots  or  branch- 
cs  to  each  horn,  Avhich  ;^enerally  extend  about 
six  feet  in  width  from  each  other.  The  horns 
weit^h  from  thirty  to  fifty  pounds,  ami  are  shed 
every  year.  The  hoofs  of  the  Moose  are  cloven ; 
his  gait,  is  a  long  sliambling  trot  ;  his  course^ 
ver}-  swift,  anrl  straight.  When  he  runs,  the 
ratling  of  his  hoofs,  is  heaixl  at  a  considerable 
distance  ;  in  miry  places,  his  hoofs  are  spread 
several  inches  from  one  another  ;  and  it  is  witlt 
tlie  gi-eatest  case,  that  he  leaps  over  the  highest 
of  our  fences.  The  Moose  is  generally  of  a 
grey,  light  brown,  or  mouse  colour.  The  food 
of  this  animal  is  grass,  shrubs,  the  boughs  and 
bark  of  trees,  especially  the  beech,  which  they' 
seem  to  prefer  above  all  otliers,  and  a  species  of 
maple  which  is  called  moose  wood.  In  sum- 
mer, they  keep  pretty  much  in  families.  In  tlic 
winter,  they  herd  together  to  the  nlimber  of 
twenty  or  thirty,  in  a  company  :  They  prefer 
the  coldest  places  ;  and  when  the  snow  is  deep, 
they  form  a  kind  of  yard,  consisting  of  several 
acres,  in  which  they  constantly  trample  down 
the  snow,  that  they  may  more  easily  range 


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XOO         NATURAL  AND  Ciyil, 

round  their  yard  ;  and  when  they  cannot  come 
at  the  grass,  they  live  on  the  twigs  and  bark  of 
the  trees.  Their  defence  is  chiefly  with  their 
fore  feet,  with  which  they  strike  with  great 
force.  The  female  is  less  than  the  male,  and 
generally  without  horns.  The  rutting  season  is 
in  autumn  :  The  female  generally  brings  forth 
two  at  a  birth,  in  the  mouth  of  April,  which 
follow  the  dam  a  whole  year.  One  of  these 
animals  in  Vermont,  was  found  by  measure,  to 
be  seven  feet  high.  The  largest,  are  estimated 
by  the  hunters,  to  vveigh  thirteen  or  fourteen 
hundred  pounds. 

The  Bear  is  frequently  to  be  met  with  in 
this  part  of  America,  and  is  always  of  a  black 
colour.  It  is  not  an  animal  of  the  most  fierce, 
and  cainivorous  disposition.  There  have  been 
instances,  in  which  children  have  been  devoured 
by  the  bear  ;  but  it  is  only  when  it  is  much  ir- 
ritajted,  or  suffering  with  hunger,  that  it  makes 
any  attack  upon  the  human  race.  At  other 
times,  it  will  destroy  swine  and  young  cattle, 
but  has  not  been  known  to  make  any  attack  up- 
on men  ;  but  always  aims  to  avoid  their  pursuit. 
The  food  of  this  animal  is  corn,  sweet  apples, 
acorns,  and  nut; .  In  the  end  of  autunm,  the 
bear  is  generall}  very  fat,  and  chooses  for  the 
place  of  his  retreat  the  hollow  of  a  rotten  tree, 
or  some  natural  den,  or  cavern  in  the  earth.  In 
siJfch  a  situation  he  uses  no  exercise,  appears  to 
be  asleep,  loses  but  little  by  respiration,  and  is 
always  found  without  any  provision  ;  and  it  is 
not  until  the  warmth  of  the  spring  returns,  that 
he  leaves  his  retreat,  or  goes  abroad  in  quest  of 
food.     This  animal  is  valuable  for  its  flesh, 


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HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        101 

grease,  and  skin.  The  female  generally  bears 
two  cubs  a  year.  The  bear  arrives  to  a  gnjat 
nragnitude  in  this  part  oC  the  continent.  The 
largest,  of  which  the  hunters  give  us  gny  cer- 
tain information,  Aveighcd  four  hundred  and  fifty 
six  pounds. 

One  of  the  most  common  and  noxious  of  all 
our  animals,  is  the  Wolf.  In  the  form  of  his 
'  body,  the  wolf  much  resembles  the  dog.  He 
has  a  long  head,  a  pointed  nose,  sharp  ar.d  erect 
cars,  a  short  and  thick  neck.,  with  sharp  and 
strong  teeth.  His  eyes  generally  appear  spark- 
ling ;  and  there  is  a  mildness,  and  a  fierceness  in 
his  looks.  The  colour  of  the  wolf  in  Vermont, 
IS  a  dirty  grey  ;  with  some  tinges  of  yellow  a- 
bout  his  ears,  and  legs.  This  animal  is  ex- 
tremely fierce,  sanguinary,  and  carnivorous. 
When  a  number  of  thcni  associate,  it  is  not  for 
peace,  but  for  war  and  destruction.  The  ani- 
mal at  which  they  most  of  all  aim,  is  the  sheep* 
When  they  can  find  a  flock  of  these,  they  seem 
io  c%light  in  slaughter  ;  tcaHng  their  flesh,  and 
sucking  their  blood,  after  they  are  fully  satisfied 
wit!)  the  fat  of  their  tender  parts.  They  attack 
the  deer,  foxes,  nihl>its,  and  are  enemies  to  all 
other  animals  ;  and  their  attacks  are  generally 
attended  with  the  most  horrid  biOwlings.  They 
gL'nerally  flee  before  the  face  of  the  hunter ;  but 
\vhen  they  have  once  tasted  of  human  flesh,  they 
become  more  fierce,  and  daring,  and  seem  to  be 
inflamed  with  greater  fury.  In  such  a  state, 
tliere  have  been  instances  in  Vermont,  in  which 
the  wolves  have  ventured  to  make  their  attacks 
upon  men  ;  biU  they  generally  retire  upon  their 
approach.    They  are  not  often  to  be  seen  in  th* 

VOL.  I,  N 


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NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


day,  but  in  the  niglit  venture  into  our  yards, 
and  barns.  These  animals  are  yet  in  great 
numbers,  in  this  state  ;  they  destroy  many  of 
our  sheep,  in  the  night  ;  and  find  a  safe  retreat 
in  our  woods,  and  mountains  ;  but  are  gradual- 
ly decreasing,  as  our  settlements  increase,  and 
extend.  The  wolf  is  a  very  prolific  animal. 
The  female  is  in  season  in  the  winter,  but  the 
male  and  female  never  pair.  The  time  of  ges- 
tation, is  about  three  months  and  an  half  ;  and 
the  young  whelps  are  found  from  the  beginning 
of  Mav,  until  the  month  of  Jul  v.  The  hunters 
have  sometimes  found  in  their  dens,  a  male,  a 
female,  and  a  litter  of  nine  young  v.helps.  One 
of  the  largest  wolves  in  Vermont,  weighed  nine- 
ty two  pounds.  There  is  nothing  valuable  in 
these  animals  but  their  skins,  ^yhich  afford  a 
warm  and  durable  fur. 

The  Deer  is  one  of  our  most  common  and 
valuable  animals.  In  the  spring  he  .sheds  his 
hair,  and  appears  of  a  light  red  ;  this  colour 
gradually  grows  darker  until  autumn,  when  it 
becomes  a  pale,  or  cinerous  brown  ;  and  re- 
mains thus  through  the  winter.  His  horns  are 
slender,  round,  projecting  forwaixls,  and  bent 
into  a  curve  ;  with  branches  or  shoots  on  the 
interior  side.  These  branches  do  not  com- 
mence, until  the  deer  is  three  years  old  ;  from 
which  period,  a  new  one  rises  every  year  ;  and 
by  this  circumstance,  the  hunters  compute  their 
a«e.  These  horns  are  cast  every  spring  ;  the 
new  ones,  in  the  course  of  a  year,  will  grow  two 
feet  in  leiigth,  and  weigh  from  two  to  four 
pounds.  The  amorous  season  with  these  ani- 
mals, is  ill  the  montli  of  September.    From 


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HISTORY  OP>  VERMONT.        103 

September  to  March,  the  bucks  and  docs  herd 
tOi'rether  ;  early  in  the  spring  they  separate,  and 
the  does  secrete  themselves  in  order  to  bring 
forth  their  young  ;  which  generally  happens  in 
the  month  of  April.     The  female  generally  bears 
two,    and   sometimes   three,  at  a  birth.     The 
fawns   are  red,   most  l)eautifully  spotted  with 
white.     They  are  easilv  tamed,  and  become  as 
gentle  and  domestic  as  a  calf.     The  deer  is  an 
animal  of  great  mildness,   and'  activity.     They 
are  always  in  motion  ;  and  leap  over  our  high- 
est fences,  with  the  greatest  ease.     The  largest 
of  which  I  have  a  particular  account,  weighed 
three  hundred  and  eiglit  pounds.     The  deer  ar« 
numerous  in  Vermont;  and  on  account  of  their 
ilesh  and  skin,  are  of  much  value.     The  rein- 
deer is  not  to  be  found  in  this  part  of  the  conti- 
nent.    But  there  seems  to  be  another  species  of 
the  American  deer,  distinguished  chiefly  by  its 
horns,  and  often  by  its  colour.     The  horns  of 
this  deer  arc  never  extensive,  broad,  and  branch- 
ed, like  those  of  the  common  deer  :  But  thej 
are  round,  thick,  but  little  curved,  and  not  more 
than  ten  or  twelve  inches  in  length.     This  spe- 
cies is  generally  larger  than  the  other  :  Several 
of  them  have  large  \vhite  spots,  and  some  have 
been  killed  which  were   wholly  white  .^ 

The  Fox  abounds  much  in  this  part  of  A- 
meriea.  The  form,  disposition,  and  habits  of 
this  animal,  are  every  where  known.  AVe  have 
four  kinds  of  foxes  in  Vermont. 

The  Jied  Fox  liears  upon  :i  yellowish,  or 
ratlier  a  straw  colour.  T!\is  is  esteemed  the 
common  fox,  and  is  the  most  frequently  to  be 
found.  At  its  full  growth  in  the  fall,  this  ani- 
mal  weighs  twenty  pounds. 


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NATURAL.  AND  CIVIL 


The  Gre?/  Fox  resembles  the  other  in  form, 
and  magnitude,  and  appears  to  differ  from  it  on- 
ly in  colour,  which  is  of  a  beautiful  silver  grey. 

The  Cross  J' ox  resembles  the  other  in  ibrm, 
and  magnitude  ;  but  has  a  black  streak,  passing 
transversely  from  slioulder  to  shoulder  ;  with 
another  along  the  back,  to  tl'.e  tail.  I'hc  other 
parts  of  this  animal  are  of  a  red,  or  more  gcner-^ 
ally  of  a  j^rcy  colour. 

The  Black  J  ox  is  the  largest,  and  most  vah 
uabic  of  all.  The  fur  of  this  fox  is  the  most 
fme,  soft,  and  rich,  of  any.  One  of  the  largest 
of  the  black  foxes,  was  found  to  weigh  twenty 
three  pounds. 

The  Fox  is  a  very  voracious  animal  ;  de- 
vouring all  kinds  of  poultry,  birds,  and  animals, 
W'hich  they  can  overcome.  Flesh,  fruit,  honey, 
and  every  part  of  the  farmer's  dairy  are  cIe^  our- 
ed  by  him  \vith  great  avidity.  This  animal  is 
very  prolific.  The  female  is  in  season  every 
year,  in  the  winter  ;  and  generally  produces  in 
the  month  of  April  ;  the  litter  is  gener4lly  from 
three  to  six. 

The  Catamount,  seems  to  be  the  same 
animal,  which  the  ancients  called  Lynx,  and 
which  is  known  in  Siberia,  by  the  name  of 
Ounce,  In  the  form  of  its  body  it  much  re- 
sembles the  common  cat,  but  is  of  a  much  lar- 
ger si^c.  It  is  generally  of  a  yellow  grey  co- 
lour, bordering  upon  a  red  or  sandy  ;  and  is 
larger  thmi  our  largest  dogs.  This  seems  to  be 
the  most  fierce  and  ravenous  of  any  animiil, 
which  we  have  in  Vermont.  Some  years  ago, 
one  of  these  animals  was  killed  at  Bennington. 
It  took  a  large  calf  out  of  a  pen,  where  the  fence 


1  ■; 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.       105 

>vas  four  feet  high,  and  carried  it  off  ii]>on  its 
back.     With  this  loud,  it  ascended  a  ledge  of 
rocks,  v»diere  one  of  tlie  leaps,   was  fifteen  feet 
in  height.     Two  hunters  found  tlie  cat  u])on  an 
hii^li   tree.     Discharging   his    musket,    one    of 
them  wounded  it  in  the  leg.     It  descended  with 
the  greatest  iigilit}-,  and  fury  ;  did  not.  attack 
the  men,   but  seized   their  dog  by   one  of  his 
ribs,  broke  it  off  in  tliC  midule,  and  instantly 
leaped  U])  the  tice  i.gain  with  astonishing  swifts 
ncss,  and    dexterit}-.     The   other  hunter   shot 
hi. II  through  the  hc::d,  but  his  fury  did  not  cease, 
hut  V.  ith   the  last  rc^niairis  of  life.     These  ani- 
mals ha\e  been   ori;c;i  seen  in   Vermont  ;    but 
they  ne\er  \^cre  very  numerous,  or  easily  to  be 
tiiken.     Of  their  fccriudity,  I  have  no  particular 
iuionnalif);!.     On    account  of  their   fierceness, 
activity,   and  carnivorous  disposition,  the  hun- 
ters esteem  them  the  most  dangerous  of  any  of 
our  animals.     The  M'cight  of  one  of  them,  was 
estimated  by  tlie  hunter,  at  one  hundred  pounds. 
The  length  of  his  body  was  about  six  feet,  that 
of  the  tail,   three  ;    the   circumference  of  the 
body  was  two   feet  and  an   half,  and  the   legs 
were  about  thirteen  inches  long. 

What  is  called  the  Wild  Cat,  is  an  ani- 
mal, in  most  res[)ects  similar  to  our  common 
cats  ;  but  different  in  its  disposition,  and  di- 
mensions. It  is  much  larger,  stronger,  and 
fiercer,  than  any  of  our  domestic  cats  ;  and 
seems  to  be  of  the  same  disposition,  and  colour, 
as  the  wolf  One  of  the  largest  of  them  was 
found  by  the  hunter,  to  weigh  fifty  seven  pounds. 

The  Black  Cat  does  not  appear  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  former,  in  any  other  respect 


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106         NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 

i\vM\  its  colour.  It  is  altogether  black,  and  sel- 
dom (>,rows  to  so  large  a  size,  as  the  former.  It 
Kcems'to  be  of  a  distinct  species;  is  as  fierce 
jind  ravenous  as  t4ie  other  kind.  These  animals 
are  frequently  found  in  the  woods  ;  vciy  wild, 
extremely  fierce  in  combat,  of  great  activity  and 
strength  *;  but  never  can  be  tanied,  or  made  to 
iissociatc  with  our  common  cat?;.  Tlic  y  ^  are 
valuable  only  on  account  of  their  furs.  The 
black  cat  v>as  called  by  the  Indians,  the  jrool- 
Iinccg :  The  largest  of  \vhich  1  hiive  any  ac- 
count, weighed  twenty  three  pounds. 

Another  animal  which  does  not  greatly  dlT- 
fer  in  ap])earance  IVom  a  wild  cat,  has  been  cal- 
led the  JFvIvcnne.     The  body  of  this  animal  is 
itbovit  two  feet  and  an  half  in  length.     It  has  a 
short  tail,  and  is  of  the  same  colour  as  the  "»'  olf. 
This  animal  is  of  a  very  fierce,  and  carni^•orcu!•. 
dis])Osilion.       Concealing   himself   among    ihe 
rocks  and  bushes,  or  taking  a  s%;tion  upon  the 
limb  of  a  tree,   he  watches  for  the   approach  of 
prey.     If  the  deer,  or  the  moose  conies  ^v  ithiu 
his  reach,  he  daits  upon  their  backs,  fastens  up- 
on  their  neck,  and  with  great  dexterity  opens 
their  jugular  vein  with  his  teeth.     This  animal 
is  scarce,  and  not  to  be  found  but  in  the  nor- 
thern, and  most  uncultivated  parts  of  the  stat(^ 
I  have  no  account  of  its  fecundity,  magnitude, 
or  other  particulars. 

The  Racoon,  in  its  shape  or  general  form, 
reseiiU^les  the  fox,  but  has  a  larger  body,  with 
thicker  and  shorter  legs.  The  ieet  have  five 
long  and  slender  toes,  armed  with  shaip  claws. 
The  •  .les  have  generally  a  large  whitish  stripe, 
and  ■    *  iemalQS  a  smaller  one,  Avhieh  runs  across 


j.MWiii 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      101 

the  forehead.  The  tail  Is  long,  and  round,  with 
annular  strij^es  in  it.  This  animal  dwells  in  the 
retired  part  of  the  woods,  runs  up  the  trees  with 
great  aj^ility  and  ventures  to  the  extremes  of 
the  boughs.  Its  fur  is  thick,  long,  and  soft  ; 
and  of  a  dark  grey  colour.  The  weight  of  one 
of  the  largest  in  Vermont^  was  thirty  two  pounds. 
It  is  often  found  in  hollow  trees,  and  its  flesh  in 
excellent  food. 

The  Porcupine,  or  Hedgehog,  is  not  un- 
common in  Vermont.  What  is  singular  and 
most  distinguishing  in  this  animal,  arc  the  quills 
with  whicli  he  is  armed.  These  quills  arc  a- 
bout  four  inches  in  length  ;  and  of  tl^  size  of 
the  quills  of  a  pigeon.  When  the  porcupine  is 
attacked  by  an  enemy,  he  places  his  head  be- 
tween his  fore  feet,  and  erects, these  quills  all 
around,  in  the  form  of  an  hemisphere.  He  has 
no  power  to  eject  the*fti  from  his  body,  or  dart 
them  against  his  enemy,  as  has  been  frequently 
said.  But  they  are  so  loosely  inserted  in  his 
flesh,  and  of  such  a  particular  construction,  that 
they  are  easily  extracted,  and  like  a  barbed  dart 
stick  fast,  and  work  themselves  into  the  flesh  of 
any  animal  that  touches  their  extremities  ;  nor 
can  they  be  easily  withdrawn,  without  tearing 
the  flesh,  but  by  incision.  On  this  account 
they  prove  extremely  dangerous  to  the  dog,  or 
to  any  other  animal  that  makes  an  attack  upon 
the  porcupine.  The  colour  of  this  animal,  is 
grey  :  His  motion  is  extremely  slow.  The  fe^ 
male  produces  her  young  every  year  ;  the  time 
of  gestation  is  about  forty  days,  and  she  gener- 
ally brings  forth  three  or  four  at  a  birth.  One 
of  the  largest  of  tliese  animals,  weighed  sixteen 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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pounds  :  Tlic  flesh  is  said  to  be  £if^rcc:il;!c,  and 
wholesome  meat. 

Another  iinimni,  which  \\c  frer|!icnt]y  find 
ill  the  fields,  is  the  Woo d c h uc  k.  This  iinimiil 
is  about  Liixtceu  inches  in  leiigth ;  its  body  is 
large,  and  round  ;  its  k.p;s  are  short  ;  and  it:i 
fore  feet  are  l:>road,  ar.d  filled  for  the  piir[)osc  of 
burrowiii;^  into  the  eart!-.  The  colour  of  the 
Woodchuck  is  bro\\n,  his  fut  is  extrevne,  tlic 
'flesh  is  wholesome  and  palatuble  ffjod,  h.is  fur  is 
not  very  valuable.  This  aninud  resides  in  a 
hole  which  he  dit^-s  in  the  ground,  and  fc  eds  up- 
on grass,  corn,  beans,  and  tUher  veget:  ble;j, 
The  female  generally  produces  four  or  live  at  a 
birth.  One  of  the  fattest  which  I  have  secn^ 
weighed  eleven  pounds  :  I  believe  this  was  oiu; 
of  the  larc^est  size. 

The  Skunk  is  one  of  the  most  cxtraordina^ 
ry  animals,  of  which  vvc  have  any  account.  It 
seems  to  be  of  the  same  species  v.Ith  the  pole- 
cat, but  is  of  a  less  size,  ind  differs  from  it  in 
several  resjDCcts.  Its  hair  is  long,  and  shiniiif^, 
of  a  clouded  or  dirty  white,  intermixed  Avith 
spots  of  black.  Ils  tail  is  lono-,  and  bushy,  like 
that  of  the  fox.  It  li'.cs  ehieily  in  the  woods, 
and  hedges,  but  often  buiTo\vs  under  bams  and 
out  houses.  When  undisturbed,  this  animal  is 
without  any  ill  scent,  or  disagreeable  eilluvia. 
Their  natural  evacuatioiis  are  not  more  nauseous, 
than  those  of  other  animals.  Whole  nests  of 
them  will  lie  under  the  floor  of  a  barn,  and  so 
long  as  they  arc  undisturbed,  no  disagreeable 
odour  will  be  perceived  during  the  whole  winter. 
Their  flesh,  when  it  is  properly  dressed,  is  s^^■eet 
and  nourishing.     When  pursued  or  attacked. 


.1 


M'! 


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HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      109 

the  skunk  discovers  its  extraordinary  powers, 
by  a  singular  and  most  effectual  method  of  de- 
fence. It  emits  a  fluid  of  the  most  nauseous 
and  intolerable  scent,  that  has  ever  been  known. 
So  odious,  subtle,  and  penetrzfting,  is  this  ill 
scented  matter,  that  there  is  no  animal  which 
can  long  endure  it,  or  will  venture  to  approach 
the  skunk,  when  he  is  throwing  it  out.  It  in- 
fects the  air  to  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  all  a- 
round  :  And  no  method  has  been  found,  to  ex- 
tract the  scent  out  of  any  object,  on  which  the 
odious  fluid  has  been  thrown.  Time  and  air, 
after  a  long  period,  affords  the  only  complete 
remedy.  By  accurate  dissection  lately  made  by 
Dr.  Mitchell^  it  has  been  found  that  this  ill  scent- 
ed fluid,  is  entirely  distinct  from  the  urine.  It 
is  contained  in  two  bags,  situated  in  the  poste- 
rior parts  of  the  body  ;  and  surrounded  by  the 
circular  muscles  in  such  a  manner,  that  by  their 
constriction,  the  fluid  is  fprced  out  with  great 
velocity  and  force.  The  urinary  organs  are 
totally  distinct  from  these  bags.*  The  female 
produces  a  litter  every  year  ;  and  they  general- 
ly amount  to  five  or  six  in  number.  One  of 
these  animals  weighed  seven  pounds  and  an 
half,  but  whether  it  was  one  of  the  largest  size, 
I  cannot  determine. 

The  Martin  is  an  animal,  peculiar  to  cold 
climates.  It  is  found  in  large  numbers  in  Ver- 
mont, but  chiefly  in  the  most  retired,  and  thick- 
est parts  of  the  woods.  Its  colour  is  a  dark 
blown,  with  tinges  of  yellow  ;  sometimes  the 
colour  approaches  to  a  black  ;  Tlie  fur  is  fine, 


*  American  Maseutn,  Vol,  V.  p.  48;. 
VOL.    I.  O 


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soft,  and  much  esteemed.  This  animal  is  from 
eighteen  to  twenty  inches  in  leni^th.  A  large 
one  was  found  to  weigh  five  pounds  and  one 
quarter  of  a  pound.  The  female  produces  from 
three  to  six  young  ones,  at  a  litter.  The  mar- 
tin and  sable  denote  the  sa:rf*  j)nimal  in  Ver- 
mont.   . 

Th  e  Ha  r  e  is  about  eighteen  incl;  ;  in  length : 
It  is  always  of  a  white  colour,  and  iias  a  fine, 
and  beautiful  fur  :  Its  flesh  is  a  very  nourialiing, 
and  delicious  food.  This  animal  is  very  pro- 
lific.  7' he  time  of  gestation  is  about  thirty 
days  :  The  female  bears  three  or  four  at  a  birth, 
and  has  several  litters  in  the  course  of  a  year. 
A  large  hare  weighs  eight  pounds,  'i'he  hun- 
ters find  large  numbers  of  these  animals,  in  this 
part  of  the  country. 

The  Rabbit  is  something  less  than  the 
hare,  but  in  greater  numbers.  His  colour,  lx)th 
in  summer  and  winter,  is  a  light  grey,  or  dirty 
white.  The  length  of  the  labbit,  is  about  six- 
teen or  seventeen  inches  ;  one  of  the  largest  of 
them,  weighed  seven  pounds.  The  rabbit  is 
more  prolific  than  the  hare.  The  female  bears 
sooner,  and  has  from  four  to  eight,  at  a  litter. 
These  animals  are  readily  found,  in  every  part  of 
the  state. 

The  Weasel  has  the  form  and  appearance, 
of  a  squirrel  ;  but  is  more  slim,  and  active. 
His  eyes  have  an  uncommon  sprightliness  ;  his 
look  is  keen,  and  piercing ;  and  his  motions  arc 
so  quick,  and  various,  that  the  eye  can  scarcely 
follow  them.  This  animal  is  of  a  red  or  brown 
colour,  and  has  a  white  belly.  Its  fur  is  very 
fine,  and  soft.    His  food  is  corn,  nuts,  eggs, 


1 ;  '\ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      1   1 

and  all  kinds  of  small  animals.  The  weasel  is 
often  found  in  hollow  trees,  and  he  frequently 
enters  into  houses,  bams,  and  other  buildin^^, 
in  search  of  j^rain.  chickens,  mice,  and  young 
animals.  In  Yen.  it,  the  weasel  is  about  twelve 
inches  in  leni^th  ;  very  nan-ow  and  slim,  and 
weighs  about  twelve  ounces.  The  female  bears 
thruc,  four,  or  five  .  ^  a  birth  ;  but  they  do  not 
aprc;ir  to  be  very  rMnerous. 

The  r.RMiNE  is  the  most  beautiful  quadru- 
ped, which  is  seen  in  our  woods.  In  its  form, 
dimensions,  activity,  and  fecundity,  it  resembles 
the  weasel,  but  is  rather  larger  ;  one  of  them 
weighed  fourteen  ounces.  Its  colour  is  a  beau- 
tiful  white  :  The  tail  is  tipped  with  a  beautiful 
black.  Some  of  these  animals  have  a  stripe  of 
dark  brown,  or  mouse  colour,  extending  along 
the  back,  from  the  head  to  the  tail  ;  the  other 
parts  being  perfectly  white.  This  little,  brisk, 
sprightly  and  beautiful  animal,  has  the  most  fine 
and  delicate  fur,  that  can  be  imagined  ;  and  the 
animal  itself  is  one  of  the  greatest  beauties  of 
nature.  ,  •  . 

Of  the  SQUIRREL  we  have  four  or  five  spe- 
cies ;  grey,  black,  red,  striped,  and  flying. 

The  Grey  Squirrel  \s  the  largest,  and  most 
common.  This  squirrel  is  about  thirteen  or 
fourteen  inches  in  length,  with  a  large  bushy 
tail,  as  long  as  tlie  body.  It  is  of  a  beautiful 
silver  grey  colour,  and  has  a  fine  soft  fur.  Its 
nest  is  in  the  crotch,  or  hollow  of  a  tree  ;  its 
food,  corn,  acorns,  and  nuts.  It  lays  up  a  store 
of  these  provisions  against  winter,  in  the  hollow 
of  old  trees.  The  female  bears  her  young  in 
the  sprins^-,  and  has  generally  three  or  four  at  a 


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112 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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birtli.  The  largest  of  these  grey  squirrels, 
when  they  arc  fully  fatted  in  the  fall,  weigh 
thiee  pounds  and  an  half. 

The  Black  iSj'wirrir/ resembles  the  former  in 
every  respect,  but  its  colour,  and  size.  It  'v\ 
wholly  black,  without  any  change  in  its  colour, 
at  any  time  of  the  year.  Its  size  is  something 
kss  than  that  of  the  grey  squirrel  :  the  largest 
I  have  known,  weighed  but  two  pounds  and  iui 
half. 

Th  e  Red  Squirrel  does  not  appear  to  differ 
from  the  black,  in  any  other  particular,  but  the 
colour. 

I'he  Striped  Squirrel  is  smaller  than  either 
of  the  other.  The  largest  of  these  docs  not 
weigh  more  than  nine  or  ten  ounces.  This 
squirrel  digs  a  hole  in  the  gi'ound,  for  the  place 
ol  his  residence.  He  provides  a  store  of  nuts, 
acorns,  and  com,  against  winter.  These  are 
carefully  deposited  in  his  nest  ;  and  he  resides 
in  the  earth  during  the  severity  of  the  season. 

The  Flying  Squirrel  is  the  most  curious,  and 
beautiful  of  all  ;  and  of  the  same  size  as  the 
striped  one  :  This  squirrcl  has  a  kind  of  wings, 
by  which  he  will  pass  from  one  tree  to  another, 
at  the  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  feet.  None  of 
our  animals  have  a  more  line  or  delicate  fur, 
than  this  little  squirrel.  He  feeds  on  the  buds, 
and  seeds  of  vegetables  ;  and  generally  has  his 
nest  in  decayed,  and  rotten  trees. 

The  Mojue,  Shrew  Mouse,  Ground 
Mouse,  and  Field  Mouse,  aieto  be  found  in 
this  part  of  America  :  they  are  so  small,  and 
well  knovm,  that  they  do  not  require  a  particu- 
lar description.     The  hunters  inform  me,  that 


I- 


:'  * 


V   '1 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.       11.3 

there  are  several  kinds  of  mice  to  be  found  in 
the  Hoodb,  which  have  not  been  dcbcribcd. 
The  grey  rat,  the  black  rat,  nnd  the  water  rat,  have 
now  become  common  ;  though  but  a  few  years 
since,  they  were  not  to  be  found  in  any  part  of 
the  state. 

The  quadrupeds  which  have  been  described, 
arc  to  be  found  only  upon  the  land.  There  arc 
others  of  an  amphibious  nature,  which  live  upon 
the  land,  or  in  the  water  ;  these  are  to  be  found 
in  the  rivers,  ponds,  and  lakes. 

One  of  the  most  sagacious  and  useful  of 
these,  is  the  Beaver.  On  account  of  his  nat- 
ural constitution  and  instincts,  his  social  nature, 
the  works  he  performs,  and  the  uses  to  which  he 
is  apphcd,  the  beaver  is  the  most  extraordinary 
of  all  our  animals,  and  deserves  a  more  particu- 
lar description. 

The  American  beaver  is  between  three  and 
four  feet  in  length,  and  weighs  from  forty  to 
sixty  pounds.  His  head  is  like  that  of  a  rat,  in- 
clined to  the  earth  ;  his  back  rises  in  an  arch 
between  his  head  and  tail.  His  teeth  are  long, 
broad,  strong,  and  sharp.  Four  of  these,  t^vo 
in  the  upper,  and  two  in  the  under  jaw,  are  cal- 
led incisors.  These  teeth  project  one  or  two 
inches  beyond  the  jaw,  and  are  sharp,  and  curv- 
ed, like  a  carpenter's  gouge.  In  his  fore  feet 
tlic  toes  are  separate,  as  if  designed  to  answer 
the  purposes  of  lingers  and  hands  :  His  hind 
feet  are  accommodated  with  webs,  suited  to  the 
purpose  of  swimming.  His  tail  is  a  foot  long, 
an  inch  thick,  and  five  or  six  inches  broad  :  It 
is  covered  widi  scales,  and  with  a  skin  simile 
to  that  of  fish. 


I 

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I    • 


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11 


114 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


ii' 


!     >     i 


''   I 


In  no  animal  docs  the  social  iiistinct  and  hahit 
ap})ear  more   strong,  or  universal,   than  in  the 
beaver.     Wheresoever  a  number  of  these  ani- 
mals  are  foimd,  they  immediately  associate,  and 
combine  in  society,  to  pursue  their  common 
business,  and  wcliare.     Every  thing  is  done,  by 
the  united  counsels,  and  labours,  of  the  whole 
community.     Their  societies  are  generally  col- 
lected together,  in  the  months  of  June  and  July ; 
and  their  numbers  when  thus  collected,    fre- 
quently amount  to  two  or  three  hundred  ;  all 
of  which,  immediately  engage  in  a  joint  effort, 
to  promote  the  common  business  and  safety  of 
the  whole  society  ;  apparently  acting  under  a 
common  inclination,  and  direction.     When  the 
beaver  is  found  in  a  solitary  state,  he  appears 
to  be  a  timid,  inactive,  and  stupid  animal.     In- 
stead of  attempting  any  important  enterprize,  he 
contents  himself  with  digging  a  hole   in   the 
earth  for  safety  and  concealment.     His  genius 
seems  to  be  depressed,  his  spirits  broken,  and 
every  thing  cnterprizing  is  lost  in  an  attention 
to  personal  safety  ;    but  he  never  looses  his 
natural  instinct  to  find  or  form  a  pond.*  When 
combined  in  society,  his  disposition,  and  pow- 
ers assume  their  natural  direction,  and  are  ex- 
erted to  the  highest  advantage  :  Every  thing  is 
then  undertaken,  which  the  beaver  is  capable 
of  performing.  •    • 

The  society  of  beavers  seems  to  be  regulated 
ind  governed,  altogether  by  natural  dispositions, 


•  A  young  beaver  was  tamed  in  the  southern  part  of  this  state. 
He  became  quiet,  inoffensive,  and  without  any  disposition  to  depart. 
But  was  most  of  all  pleased,  when  he  was  at  work,  forming  a  dam,  in  a 
wnall  stream  near  the  house.  '  -.   v^>iw->- 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.       115 


*'l: 


rH 


and  laws.  Their  society,  in  all  its  pursuits  and 
operations,  appears  to  be  a  society  of  peace  and 
mutual  affection  ;  guided  by  one  principle,  and 
under  the  same  direction.  No  contention,  dis- 
agreement, contrary  interests,  or  pursuits,  arc 
ever  seen  among  them  ;  but  perfect  harmony 
and  agreement,  prevails  through  their  whole 
dominions.  The  principle  of  this  union  and 
regulation,  is  not  the  superior  strength,  ait,  or 
activity  of  any  individual  :  Nothing  has  the 
appearance,  among  them,  of  the  authority,  or 
influence  of  a  chief,  or  leader.  Their  association 
and  management,  has  the  aspect  of  a  pure  and 
perfect  democracy  ;  founded  on  the  principle  of 
perfect  equality,  and  the  strongest  mutual  at- 
tachment. This  principle  seems  to  be  suilicient 
to  preserve  the  most  perfect  harmony,  and  to 
rt  e;ulatc  all  the  proceedings  of  their  largest  so- 
cieties. 

AVhen  these  animals  are  collected  together, 
their  first  attention  is  to  the  public  business  ajid 
affairs  of  the  society,  to  which  they  belong. 
The  beavers  are  amphibious  animals,  and  must 
spend  one  part  of  their  time  in  the  water,  and 
another  upon  the  land.  In  conformity  to  this 
law  of  their  natures,  their  first  employment  is  to 
find  a  situation,  convenient  for  both  these  pur- 
poses. With  this  view  a  lake,  a  pond,  or  a 
running  stream  of  water,  is  chosen  for  the  scene 
of  their  habitation,  and  future  operations.  If  it 
be  a  lake,  or  a  pond  that  is  selected,  th::  water 
is  always  of  such  depth,  that  the  beavers  may 
have  sufficient  room  to  swim  under  the  ice  j 
and  one,  of  which  they  can  have  an  entire,  and 
undistijrbed  possession.     If  a  stream  of  water  is 


'  ■  i' 


ii 


'   I 


h.'  ! 


h      '-1 


1!    i 


%' 


it    :  '-  ■ 


:\n 


i     M    i:l'  if 


116 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I: 


i  1 


1     ! 

t     i 


I 


chosen,  it  is  always  such  a  stream,  as  will  form 
a  pond,  that  shall  be  every  way  convenient  for 
their  puq^ose.  And  such  is  their  foresight  and 
comprehension  of  these  circumstances,  that  they 
never  form  an  erroneous  judgment,  or  fix  upon 
a  situation  that  will  not  answer  their  designs 
and  convenience.  Their  next  business,  is  to 
construct  a  dam.  This  is  always  chosen  in  the 
most  convenient  part  of  the  stream  ;  and  the 
form  of  it,  is  either  direct,  circular,  or  with  an- 
gles,  as  the  situation  and  circumstances  of  the 
water  and  land,  require  :  And  so  well  chosen 
is  both  the  place,  and  the  form  of  these  dams, 
that  no  engineer  could  give  them  a  better  situa- 
tion and  form,  either  for  convenience,  strength, 
or  duration.  The  materials  of  which  the  dams 
are  constructed,  are  wood,  and  earth.  If  there 
be  a  tree  on  the  side  of  the  river,  which  would 
naturally  fall  across  the  stream,  several  of  the 
beavers  set  themselves  with  great  diligence,  to 
cut  it  down  with  their  teeth.  Trees  to  the  big- 
ness of  twenty  inches  diameter,  are  thus  thrown 
across  a  stream.  They  next,  gnaw  off  the  bran- 
ches from  the  trunk,  that  the  tree  may  assume 
alevel  position.  Others,  at  the  same  time,  arc 
cutting  dovA'n  smaller  trees,  and  saplings,  from 
one  to  ten  inches  diameter.  These  are  cut  in- 
to equal  and  conveni;?nt  lengths.  Some  of  the 
beavers  drag  these  pieces  of  wood  to  the  side  of 
the  river,  and  others  swim  with  them  to  the 
place,  where  the  dam  is  to  be  built.  As  many 
as  can  find  room,  are  engaged  in  sinking  one 
end  of  these  stakes  ;  and  as  many  more  in  rais- 
ing, fixing,  and  securing  the  other  end.  While 
many  of  the  beavers  are  thus  labouring  upon 


\:  lAi  .  ji! 


') 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       117 

ihc  wood,  others  are  equally  engaged  in  cany- 
ing  on  the  earthern  part  of  the  work.  The 
earth  is  brought  in  their  mouths,  formed  into  a 
kind  of  mortar  with  their  feet  and  tails,  and 
spread  over  the  vacancies  between  the  stakes. 
Saplings,  and  the  small  branches  of  trees,  are 
twisted  and  worked  up  With  the  mud  and  slime, 
until  all  the  vacancies  are  filled  up  ;  and  no 
crevice  is  left  in  any  part  of  the  work,  for  the 
water  to  find  a  passage  through.  The  magni- 
tude and  extent  of  the  dams,  which  the  beavers 
thus  construct,  is  much  larger  than  we  should 
imagine  was  possible  to  be  effected,  by  such  la- 
bourers, or  instruments.  At  the  bottom,  the 
dam  is  from  six  to  twelve  feet  thick  ;  at  the 
top,  it  is  generally  two  or  three  feet  in  width. 
In  that  part  of  the  dam,  which  is  opposed  to 
the  current,  the  stakes  are  placed  obliquely  ; 
but  on  that  side  where  the  water  is  to  fall,  the 
stakes  are  placed  in  a  perpendicular  direction  ; 
and  the  dam  assumes  the  same  form,  and  posi- 
tion, as  the  stakes.  The  extent  of  these  works, 
is  from  fifty  to  an  hundred  feet  in  length  ;  and 
always  of  such  an  height,  as  to  effect  the  pur- 
poses they  have  in  view.  The  ponds  which 
are  formed  by  these  dams,  are  of  all  dimensions ; 
from  four  or  five,  to  five  or  six  hundred  Jicres. 
They  are  generally  spread  over  lands  abound- 
ing with  trees,  and  bushes,  of  the  softest  wood: 
Maple,  birch,  alder,  poplar,  willow,  &,c.  The 
better  to  preserve  their  dams,  the  beavers  al- 
ways leave  sluices,  or  passages  near  the  middle, 
for  the  redundant  waters  to  pass  off.  These 
sluices  are  generally  about  eighteen  inches  in 
width,  and  depth  ;  and  as  many  in  number,  as 
the  waters  of  the  stream  generally  require. 

VOL.  I.  P 


•  i   'in 


!.    < 


Hi 


ill 


■  I 


1    u 


!l>  I 


if"        ■ 


«)' 


! 


•■;i    i 


M 


r:: 


,,  !  I 


I     ) 


U  ) 


:  ■ 


i ''' 


t 


ti 


'rl 


;■;! 


II 


■  i 


If:. 


i 


118         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

Wh^n  the  public  works  are  completed,  thchr 
domestic  coiicerns  and  affairs  next  engage  their 
attention.  The  dam  is  no  sooner  completed, 
than  the  beavers  separate  into  small  bodies,  to 
build  cabins^  or  houses  for  themselves.  These 
houses  are  built  upon  piles,  along  the  borders 
of  the  pond.  They  are  of  an  oval  form,  resem- 
bling the  construction  of  an  haycock  ;  and  they 
vary  in  their  dimensions,  from  four  to  ten  feet 
in  diameter,  according  to  the  number  of  fami- 
lies they  are  designed  to  accommodate.  They 
are  always  of  two  stories,  generally  of  three, 
and  sometimes  they  contain  four*  Their  walls 
are  from  two  to  three  feet  in  thickness,  at  the 
bottom  ;  and  are  formed  of  the  same  materials 
as  their  dams.  They  rise  perpendicularly  a 
few  feet,  then  assume  a  curved  form,  and  termin- 
ate in  a  dome  or  vault,  which  answers  the  pur- 
pose of  a  roof.  These  edifices  are  built  with 
much  solidity,  and  neatness  :  On  the  inward 
side,  they  are  smooth,  but  rough  on  the  outside  ; 
always  impenetrable  to  the  ruin,  and  of  suffi- 
cient strength  to  resist  the  most  impetuous 
winds.  The  lo^ve^  story  is  about  two  feet 
high  :  the  second  story  has  a  floor  of  sticks, 
covered  with  mud  :  the  third  story  is  divided 
from  the  second,  in  the  same  manner,  and  ter- 
Ininated  by  the  roof  raised  in  the  form  of  an 
aixh.  Through  each  floor^  there  is  a  commu- 
nication ;  and  the  upper  floor  is  always  above 
the  level  of  the  water,  when  it  is  raised  to  its 
greatest  height.  Each  of  these  huts  have  two 
doors  ;  one,  on  the  land  side,  to  enable  them  to 
go  out  and  procure  provisions  by  land  j  another 
jinder  the  water,  and  below  where  it  freezes,  t© 


'I 


n 


K  Uf 


HBTORY  OF  VERMONT.      119 

preserve  their  communication  with  the  pond. 
If  this,  at  any  time  begins  to  be  covered  with 
ice,  the  ice  is  immediately  broken,  that  the 
communication  may  not  be  cut  off  with  the  air. 
In  these  huts,  the  families  of  the  beavers 
have  their  residence.  The  smallest  of  their 
cabins,  contain  one  family,  consisting  generally 
of  five  or  six  beavers  ;  and  the  largest  of  the 
buildings  will  contain  from  twenty  to  thirty. 
No  society  of  animals,  can  ever  appear  better 
regulated,  or  more  happy,  than  the  family  of 
beavers.,  The  male  and  the  female,  always 
pair.  Their  selection  is  not  a  matter  of  chance, 
or  accident  ;  but  appears  to  be  derived  from 
taste,  and  mutual  affection.  In  September,  the 
happy  couple  lay  up  their  store  of  provisions, 
for  winter.  This  consists  of  bark,  the  tender 
twigs  of  trees,  and  various  kinds  of  soft  wood. 
When  their  provisions  are  prepared,  the  season 
of  love  and  repose  commences  :  And  during 
the  winter  they  remain  in  their  cabins,  enjoy- 
ing the  fruits  of  their  labours,  and  partaking  in 
the  sweets  of  domestic  happiness.  Towards 
the  end  of  winter,  the  females  bring  forth  their 
young,  to  the  number  of  three  or  four.  Soon 
after,  the  male  retires  to  gather  fish,  and  vegeta- 
bles, as  the  spring  opens  ;  but  the  mother  re- 
mains at  home,  to  nurse,  and  rear  up  the  off- 
spring, until  they  are  able  to  follow  their  dams. 
The  male  occasionally  returns,  but  not  to  tarry, 
until  the  fall  of  the  year.  But  if  any  injury  is 
done  to  their  public  works,  the  whole  society 
are  soon  collected,  and  join  all  their  forces  to 
repair  the  injury,  which  affects  their  common, 
wealth. 


s.  ( 


!  I 


\      1, 


111 


A 


H    \  - 


vf 


si 


;'    'I 


'  h 


^    I 


•    i 


\'  * 


120 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


"  ( 


H» 


H  }  ^ 


Nothing  can  exceed  the  peace  and  regularlttf^ 
which  prevails  in  the  families,  and  through  the 
whole  commonwealth  of  these  animals.  No 
discord  or  contention  ever  appears  in  any  of 
their  families.  Every  beaver  knows  his  own 
apartment,  and  store  house  ;  and  there  is  no 
pilfering  or  robbing  from  one  another.  The 
male  and  the  female  are  mutually  attached  to, 
never  prove  unfriendly,  or  desert  one  another. 
Their  provisions  are  collected,  and  expended, 
without  anv  disseiition.  Ear.i  knows  its  own 
family,  business,  and  property  ;  and  they  arc 
never  seen  to  injure,  oppose,  or  inter  ft  re  with 
one  another.  The  same  order  and  ti*anquility 
prevail,  through  the  commonwealth.  Different 
societies  of  beavers,  never  make  war  upon  one 
another,  or  upon  any  other  animals.  When 
they  are  attacked  by  their  enemies,  they  instant- 
ly plunge  into  the  water,  to  escape  their  pur- 
suit :  And  when  they  cannot  escape,  they  fall 
an  easy  sacrifice. 

In  the  arts  necessaiy  for  their  safety^  the 
beavers  rise  to  great  eminence.  The  situation, 
direction,  form,  solidity,  beauty,  and  durability 
of  their  dams,  are  equal  to  any  thing  of  the  kind, 
which  has  ever  been  performed  by  man.  They 
always  form  a  right  judgment,  which  way  the 
tree  will  fall  ;  And  when  it  is  nearly  cut  down, 
they  appoint  one  of  their  number,  to  give  no- 
tice by  a  stroke  of  his  tail,  when  it  begins  to 
fall.  With  their  tails,  they  measure  the  lengths 
of  their  dams,  of  the  stakes  they  are  to  use,  of 
a  breach  that  is  made  in  their  works,  and  ol  the 
length  of  the  timber  that  is  necessary  to  repair 
it.    When  an  enemy  approaches  their  domin- 


«| 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      121 

ions,  the  beaver  which  makes  the  discover}',  by- 
striking  on  the  water  with  his  tail,  gives  notice 
to  the  whole  villuge  of  the  approaching  danger  ; 
and  all  of  them  instantly  plunge  into  the  water. 
And  when  the  hunters  are  passing  through  th<  ir 
country,  some  of  their  number  appear  to  be 
centinels,  to  give  notice  of  their  approach. 

The  colour  of  the  braver  is  difl'erent,  accor- 
ding to  the  different  climates,  which  tliey  in- 
habit. In  the  most  northern  parts,  they  are 
generally  black  ;  in  Vermont  they  are  brown  ; 
and  their  colour  becomes  lighter  as  we  approach 
towards  the  south.  Their  fur  is  of  two  sorts, 
all  over  their  bodies.  That  which  is  longest, 
is  generally  about  an  inch  long,  but  on  the  back, 
ir  sometimes  extends  to  two  inches,  grtidually 
shortening  towards  the  head,  and  tail.  This 
part  is  coarse,  and  of  little  use.  The  other 
part  of  the  fur  consists  of  a  very  fine  and  thick 
down,  about  three  quarters  of  an  inch  long, 
so  soft  that  it  feels  like  silk,  and  is  that,  whi?h 
is  used  in  manufactories.  Castor,  of  so  much 
use  in  I'.edicine,  is  produced  from  tic  body  of 
the  beaver.  It  is  contained  in  four  bags,  in  the 
lower  belly. 

The  largest  of  these  animals,  of  which  I  have 
any  certain  information,  weighed  sixty  three 
pounds  and  an  half  :  But  it  is  only  in  a  situa- 
tion remote  from,  and  undisturbed  by  the  fre- 
quent appeaj-ances  of  men,  that  they  attain  their 
greatest  magnitude,  or  their  highest  perfection 
of  society.  The  beaver  has  deserted  all  the 
southern  parts  of  Vermont,  and  is  now  to  be 
found  only  in  the  most  northern,  and  uncultiva- 
ted parts  of  the  state. 


\  1 


f';l 


\i| 


Li^. 


\h 


I  ^)  '^ 


122        NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


1 1 


I- .  ■ 


The  Muskrat  seems  to  be  a  smaller  kind 
of  beaver,  resembling  it  in  every  thing  but  its 
tail.  This  is  also  an  amphibious  animal,  and 
forms  a  cabin  of  sticks  and  mud,  in  some  stag- 
nant water  ;  but  is  less  fearful  of  the  approach- 
es  of  men,  and  affords  a  very  strong  musk. 
These  animals  are  to  be  found,  in  very  consid- 
erable numbers,  in  our  creeks,  and  lakes  ;  but 
are  much  less  numerous,  than  they  were  for- 
merly.  The  muskrat,  in  this  part  of  America, 
is  about  fifteen  inches  in  length  ;  the  greatest 
magnitude  I  have  known  is  five  pounds  and 
tliree  quarters  of  a  pound.  A  litter  of  these 
muskrats,  will  frequently  amount  to  four,  five, 
and  sometimes  six. 

Another  of  our  amphibious  animals,  is  the 
Mink.  It  always  resides  in  the  neighborhood 
of  rivers,  ponds,  or  lakes  ;  and  provides  a  place 
of  residence,  by  burrowing  into  the  earth.  The 
mink  is  about  twenty  inches  in  length  ;  his  legs 
are  short,  his  colour  brown,  and  his  fur  is  more 
valuable  than  that  of  the  muskrat.  One  of  the 
largest  which  I  have  known,  weiglrjd  four 
pounds  and  one  quarter  of  a  pound.  The  fe- 
male produces  two  or  three,  at  a  birth. 

The  Otter  is  a  voracious  animal,  of  great 
activity  and  fierceness.  When  it  is  fully  grown, 
it  is  five  or  six  feet  long  ;  with  sharp  and  s^ong 
teeth  ;  short  legs,  and  membranes  in  all  his 
feet ;  and  fitted  either  for  running  or  swimming. 
The  otter  explores  the  rivers  and  ponds  Ih  search 
of  fish,  frogs,  water  rats,  and  other  small  ani- 
mals :  And  when  these  are  not  to  be  had,  he 
Jives  on  the  boughs  and  bark  of  young,  or 
;^quatic  trees.    He  has  generally  been  ranked 


in 


tl: 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        123 

among  the  amphibious  animals,  which  can  live 
either  in  the  air,  or  water  ;  but  he  is  not  pro- 
perly an  amphibious  animal,  for  he  cannot  live 
without  respiration,  any  more  than  the  land  ani- 
mals. The  female  is  in  heat  in  the  winter,  and 
bears  her  young  in  the  .  .onth  of  March  ;  the 
litter  generally  consists  of  three  or  lour.  The 
fierceness  and  strength  of  the  old  otters,  is  such, 
that  the  dog  can  seldom  overcome  them  :  And 
when  they  cannot  escape,  they  will  attack  the 
hunter  with  great  rage.  The  colour  of  this  ani- 
mal is  black,  and  its  fur  is  much  esteemed. 
The  otter  formerly  abounded  very  much  in  our 
creeks,  and  rivers  ;  and  especially  in  those, 
which  empty  themselves  into  Lake  Cham- 
plain  :  On  this  account,  one  of  them  still  bears 
the  name  of  Ottercreek  ;  but  the  animal  is  now 
become  scarce.  The  largest  otter,  of  which  I 
have  a  particular  account,  weighed  twenty  nine 
pounds  and  an  half. 

To  this  account  of  the  quadrupeds  of  Ver- 
mont, I  shall  subjoin  some  reflections  on  the 
general  state  of  these  animals  in  America. 

The  enumeration  very  imperfect.  Our  ac- 
counts of  the  quadrupeds  in  this,  and  in  every 
part  of  America,  must  be  viewed  as  greatly  im- 
perfect. The  descendants  of  Europe  have  set- 
tled along  the  sea  coasts,  and  they  have  pene- 
trated to  the  lakes,  and  most  of  the  navigable 
rivers.  Butthe  internal  partsof  S.  America, arc  but 
little  known :  And  all  that  immense  tract  of  country 
in  N.  America,  which  lies  to  the  north,  and  to 
the  west  of  the  lakes,  is  wholly  unexplored.  It 
is  not  to  be  doubted,  but  these  extensive  re- 
gions, abound  with  quadrupeds ;    Of  what  spe- 


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124. 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


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cies,  and  how  numerous,  we  cannot  so  much  m 
conjecture.     When  the  country  shall  be  fully 
explored,  and  when  able  naturiilists  shall  h^vt 
visited  and  examined  the  internal  partis,  the  his- 
tory of  the  animals  of  America,  may  be  brought 
to  some  perfection  ;  but  it  is  far  from  it,  at 
present.     All  the  animals  which  have  been  enu- 
merated; are  only  those  which  are  frequently 
found,  in  a  small  part  of  the  continent.     That 
an  animal  of  great  and  uncommon  magnitude, 
has  existed  in  North  America,  and  in  Siberia,  is 
certain  from  the  bones  of  the  animal  which  }  ct 
remain.     On  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  and  in 
many  places  furtlier  north,  tusks,  grinders,  and 
skeletons,  of  an  enormous  size,  are  to  be  found 
in  irrcat  numbers.     Some  of  them  lie  upon  the 
suif ice  of  the  eround,  and  others  are  five  or  six 
feet  below  it.     Some  of  the  tusks  are  near  seven 
feet  long,   one  foot  and  nine  inches  at  the  base, 
and  one  foot  near  the  point  ;  the  cavity  at  the 
base,  nineteen  inches  dtep.     From  the  size  and 
tliickness  of  these  bones,  it  is  certain  that  they 
could  not  belong  to  the  elephant  ;  but  denote 
an  animal  five  or  six  times  as  large,  and  of  the 
carnivorous  kind.     We  have  the  testimony  of 
the  Indians  that  such  an  animal  still  exists  in 
the  western  parts  of  America  .  And  it  would  be 
contrary  to  the  whole  economy  of  nature,  to 
suppose  that  any  species  of  her  animals,   is  be- 
come extinct.     This  animal  must  formerly  have 
been  numerous,  at  those  places,  w^here   their 
bones  are  found  in  such  numbers.     The  prola- 
"bility  is,  as  the  means  of  subsistence  were  de- 
stroyed,  they  rei.ioved  further  to  the  westward. 
But  until  those  parts  of  America  shall  be  ex- 


1'    v> 


(  :■ 


•!.l 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.       12i: 

plorcd,  little  information  is  to  be  expected  con- 
cerning this  animal  of  the  most  enormous  bulk  : 
And  we  may  as  well  call  it  the  Mammothy  as  by 
any  other  nanie  ;  or  the  Pseiido  Eiephanty  as  it 
Us  been  named  by  Hr,  Hunter.  From  this, 
and  from  many  other  considerations,  it  appears 
that  the  enumeration  of  the  American  quadru- 
peds, is  txtremcly  imperfect. 

Origin.  The  animals  which  are  spread 
o^'er  the  face  of  the  earth,  are  fitted  by  nature, 
for  the  climate  and  country,  where  they  reside. 
No  animal,  or  vegetable,  has  a  constitution  a- 
dupted  to  every  country  :  And  there  are  none, 
but  what  are  suited  to  some  particular  part  of 
the  earth,  where  they  will  arrive  to  their  great- 
est perfection.  A  camel  is  peculiarly  fitted,  for 
the  burning  sanJs  of  Arabia  :  And  the  reindeer 
will  flourish  the  best  in  Lapland,  Hudson's  Buy, 
£ind  those  northern  countries,  where  the  cold  is 
the  n  ost  intense.  The  origin  therefore  of  dif- 
ferent quadrupeds,  is  to  be  sought  in  those  cli- 
mates, that  appear  to  be  the  best  adapted  to 
their  growth  and  multiplication.  There  are 
animals  in  the  torrid  zone  in  America,  which 
are  never  found  in  any  other  part  of  the  earth. 
This  is  the  case  with  the  Tapyr  of  Brasil,  the 
Puma  and  Jiigar,  the  Lama  and  Paco.  These 
animals  have  never  wandered  into  any  other  part 
of  the  globe  :  They  are  therefore  to  be  esteem- 
ed indigenous,  or  natural  to  the  hot  climates  of 
America.  The  same  is  the  case  with  the  ani- 
tnals  of  the  torrid  zone  in  Asia,  and  Africa, 
The  elephant,  and  rhinoceros,  are  productions 
©f  Asia.  The  deserts  of  Zaara  and  Biledulgerid 
in  Africa,  may  be  termed  the  native  country  of 

VOL.  I.  Q 


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126 


KATfllAL  AND  CIVH. 


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■ '  ^  I . 


lions,  tygers,  nnd  panlliCrs.  No  part  of  thf 
climate  of  Aincrlcu  is  so  inlLiistly  hot,  or  sandy, 
as  to  rentier  it  the  proper  country  for  the  pro. 
duclion  or  increcisc  of  animals,  i.o  fierce  and 
noxious.  'I'hcse  quadniped-i  of  hot  climates, 
have  never  wandued  fioni  tlie  one  country,  to 
the  other  :  Not  because  they  could  not  lind  a 
pav::ige,  but  because  tlicy  must  have  passed 
through  u  Cihnate,  tlic  cold  of  which,  beinf; 
huch  as  they  could  not  endure,  was  an  elfectuul 
bar  to  their  pirjsaf:^c.  There  are  other  quadru- 
peds uhi(.i\  are  common  to  iVmcricM,  to  the 
liOrdi  of  i\;?ja,  and  to  Europe.  Of  this  kind 
arc  the  buQhlo,  wh\KQ.  bear,  tarabou,  black  bear, 
(Ik,  moose,  red  deer,  fallow  dcvr,  wolf,  roe, 
glutton,  bnx,  wild  eat,  beaver,  badger,  red  fox, 
grey  fox,  black  fox,  otltr,  monax,  vison,  por- 
cupine, martin,  water  rat,  weasel,  ermine,  flying*' 
squirrel,  mole,  and  mouse.  If  we  add  the  un- 
known animal,  uhich  wc  have  called  the  mam- 
moth, the  number  of  those  quadrupeds  which 
are  common  to  Ijoth  hemispheres,  will  amount 
to  thirty.  All  of  them,  arc  the  quadrupeds  of 
cold  countries  ;  fitted  by  nature  to  that  climate, 
through  which  the  passage  must  have  been, 
from  the  one  country  to  the  other.  The  origin- 
al situation  therefore  of  these  quadrupeds,  must 
have  been  a  cold  country.  But  whether  they 
passed  from  the  northeastern  parts  of  Asia,  into 
America  ;  or  whether  they  issued  from  the 
northwest  parts  of  America,  into  Asia  ;  wc  have 
no  way  to  determine.  The  probability  is  equal, 
upon  either  supposition.  All  that  we  can  de- 
termine is,  that  they  were  originally  the  quad- 
rupeds of  a  cold  climate. 


1     '1 


HISTORY   OF   VEP4MONT.       127 

Mir.RATiON'.  Animals  of  every  kind  when 
oppressed  by  huno^cr,  ii;irusscd  by  tluir  enc- 
mics,  or  when  tlicy  ean  And  n  more  comfortable 
situation,  will  migrate  from  unc  cr.iintry  to  an- 
other. Their  migration  >\].cn  t!iO!-j(n  and  vol- 
untary, is  always  with  a  view  to  belter  accom- 
modations ;  to  a  bitiKJtion  more  f;kvourablo  for 
food,  growlh,  and  multI})lication.  Directed  by 
the  hand  of  n?.tiire,  their  natnral  progress  is  not 
to  a  worse,  but  to  a  better  biliiiillon.  Tliey  do 
not  leave  their  own  countrv,  to  settle  in  one  less 
suited  to  their  subsistence,  and  increase  ;  but 
to  acquire  greater  advantages  ;  an  increase  of 
food,  numbers,  and  vigour.  \Vlictlier  the  mi- 
gration of  fjuadrupcds  then  was  from  Asia,  or 
i'iom  America,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  but  that 
they  found  in  the  country  to  which  they  repah*- 
cd,  a  climate,  soil,  and  means  of  subsistence, 
equally  favourable  to  them,  as  those  which  ther 
left.  Had  there  been  any  vciy  great  diflcrence 
in  the  provisions,  and  accommodations  of  na- 
ture, in  cither  country,  the  (juadrupeds  that 
could  easily  migrate,  ^vould  not  have  remained, 
for  any  considerable  time,  common  to  them 
both.  Nothing  therefore  can  be  less  probable, 
or  more  contrary  to  the  laws,  tendencies,  and 
operations  of  nature,  than  the  European  idea 
first  introduced  by  M.  Buffon,  that  the  quadru- 
peds of  Europe  migrated  into  a  country  in  A- 
merica,  where  every  thing  ^vas  adapted  by  na- 
ture, to  their  dimiiiution,  degradation,  and  de- 
crease. Had  not  the  noithern  paits  of  Asia, 
and  America,  been  well  suited  to  the  subsistence, 
vigour,  and  increase  of  these  quadrupeds,  there 
would  not  have  been  any  voluntary  mirratior.j 


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128 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


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from  the  one  to  the  other  ;  nor  would  these 
animals  have  remained,  for  so  long  a  time,  com- 
mon to  them  both. 

Species.  How  far  nature  has  proceeded  in 
the  production  of  quadrupeds,  we  have  not  as 
yet,  sufficient  information  to  determine.  There 
may  be  many  species,  yet  unknown,  in  those 
parts  of  the  eaith  which  have  liot  been  cxplor-. 
ed  :  Nor  is  the  enumeration  complete,  in  those 
countries  which  are  known.  Tlie  most  that 
has  been  done  in  this  branch  of  natural  history, 
is  to  be  found  in  the  celebrated  work  of  M. 
BufFon.  As  the  result  of  his  inquiries  and  in- 
formation, this  able  philosopher  concludes  that 
the  whole  number  of  quadrupeds,  which  are 
spread  over  the  flice  of  the  earth,  will  form  a- 
bout  two  hundred  diFerent  species  or  kinds.** 
Of  these,  one  hundred  are  found  in  America, 
and  about  seventy  five  ai*e  peculiar  to  it.  If 
the  power,  the  force,  or  the  vigour  of  animated 
nature,  is  to  be  estimated  by  the  species  of 
quadrupeds,  which  difterent  countries  contain, 
the  conclusion  will  be,  that  nature  has  acted 
with  the  greatest  vigour  and  energy  in  Ameri- 
ca. In  the  different  climates  in  America,  na- 
ture has  produced  seventy  five  species  of  quad- 
rupeds :  the  number  of  those  which  are  pecuL 
iar  to  the  other  parts  of  the  globe  are  one  hun- 
dred. The  dimensions  of  America,  compared 
with  the  dimensions  of  Asia,  Africa,  and  Eu- 
rope, by  the  computation  of  the  modern  geogra- 
phers, are  as  one  hundred  and  forty  one  to  two 
hundred  and  forty  nine.f     The  ratio  of  one 

•  Vol.  IX.  41. 

t  Guthrie's  Geography,  p.  25. 


I  ■'  '-I' 


'    !   I 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.       129 

hundred  and  forty  one  to  two  hundred  and  for- 
ty nine  is  the  same  as  seventy  five  to  one  hun- 
ched and  thirty  two.  And  so  many  species 
should  be  found,  in  the  other  parts  of  the  globe, 
to  preserve  an  equality  :  But  this  is  thirty  two 
more,  than  nature  has  produced.  In  respect 
then  to  the  diiferent  species  of  quadrupeds,  if 
we  are  to  judge  by  any  enumeration  which  has 
yet  been  made,  the  greatest  force  and  vigour  of 
nature  is  found  in  America.* 

Magnitude.  The  magnitude  which  any 
animal  will  attain,  seems  to  depend  much  upon 
its  original  constitution,  tlie  climate,  and  proper 
nourishment.  In  the  original  constitution  of 
each  animal,  the  Creator  seems  to  have  estab- 
lished certain  laws,  respecting  its  form,  genera- 
tion, expansion,  and  support.  The  proper  mag- 
nitude of  the  animal,  is  therefore  assigned  by 
nature,  to  each  species  :  In  this  way,  the  ori- 
ginal limits  are  fixed  ;  above,  or  below  which, 
no  individual  of  that  species  shall  rise,  or  fall. 
Within  these  limits,  those  variations  may  take 
place,  which  we  mean  to  express,  when  we  call 
the  animal  great,  or  small.  But  no  circum- 
stance will  reverse  the  laws  of  nature,  enable 
the  different  species  of  animals  to  exchange 
their  proper  form,  and  magnitude  ;  to  debase 
the  ox  into  a  mole,  or  to  exalt  the  mole  to  the 
size  of  the  ox.  Nature  h;is  also  fitted  each 
quadruped  lor  the  climate,  in  which  it  was  ori- 
ginally  placed  ;  and  in  that  climate  only,  will  it 

*  THE  ennmerition  of  quadrupeds  seems  to  be  too  imperfect  to 
afford  anyacruratc  cali'ulations  of  this  kind.  According  io  M.  Buffon's 
latest  conclusions,  in  his  Epoques  de  la  Nature,  tlicre  ar»;  three  hundred 
spccica  of  quadrupfds.  y\nienca  acwrding  to  the  Abbe  Clavigero,  eon- 
tuius  about  one  half  ©f  the<ie. 


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130 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


attaii;  its  proper  perfection.  The  lion  would 
lose  its  fierceness;,  ond  pcri.sh,  if  it  was  removed 
to  Lnpland  ;  and  the  reindeer  would  diminish, 
and  die,  if  it  was  carried  to  the  sandy  deserts  of 
Africa.  In  those  climates  only,  to  which  na- 
ture  has  adapted  each  animal,  will  it  attain  its 
greatest  magnitude,  and  most  perfect  form. 
T  ne  animal,  to  \vhich  nature  has  thus  assigned 
its  proper  constitution,  and  climate,  must  he 
preserved  and  supported  by  proper  food,  or 
nourishment.  A  deficiency  here,  will  bring  on 
leanness,  impotency,  a  diminution  of  size,  and 
a  gradual  waste  and  consumption  of  the  whole 
species.  But  when  the  climate,  and  the  food 
are  both  suited  to  the  natural  constitution  of  the 
animal,  their  joint  influence  wull  produce  the 
greatest  size  or  magnitude,  that  species  will  ad- 
mit. 

Br  comparing  the  magnitudes  of  such  quad- 
rupeds in  Europe,  and  in  America,  as  arc  com- 
mon to  both,  and  derive  their  support  from  the 
hand  of  nature,  we  shall  of  consequence  ha^  c 
another  comparative  view  of  the  vigour  and 
force,  to  which  animated  natui'e  arrives,  in  each 
country.  Several  of  those  quadrupeds,  whose 
weight  has  been  ascertained  in  Vermont,  M. 
Buflbn  has  given  us  the  weight  of  in  Europe. 
They  are  these, 

Weight  in  Europe. 
lb.  cz. 

153  7 

69  8 

288  8 

13  5 

2  2 

1  9 


The  Bear 
Wolf 
Deer 

Fox,  red 

Porcupine 
Martin 


Weight  in  Vermont, 
lb.  oz. 

456 

92 
308 

20 

16 
5  4 


,  M" 


HISTORY  or  VERMONT.      131 


Weight 

in  Europe. 

Weight  in  Vermont. 

f 

lb.    oz. 

lb.   oz.     A 

Polecat 

3  3 

7  8 

Hare 

7  6 

8 

Rabbit 

3  4 

7 

Weasel 

# 

2  2 

12 

Ermine 

8  2 

14 

Flying  i 

Squirrel 

2  2 

10 

Beaver 

18  5 

63     8 

Otter 

■ 

8  9 

29     8 

From  this  comparison  it  appears,  that  every 
one  of  these  ajiimals,  is  larger  in  America,  than 
it  is  in  Europe.  The  inference  is  clear,  and 
decisive  :  It  is  in  America,  and  not  in  Europe, 
that  these  quadrupeds  of  a  cold  climate,  attain 
their  greatest  magnitude,  and  highest  perfection. 

I'  thp-  comparison  should  be  made,  between 
the  ;  .(^'upcds  of  the  torrid  zone,  the  reverse 
will  )'  fjundto  be  the  case.  The  elephant, 
the  rhinoceros  of  Asia,  are  much  larger  than 
tlie  quadrupeds  of  Peru  and  Brasil.  The  truth 
is,  America  is  the  most  fai'ourabie  to  the  pro- 
ductions, and  growth,  of  the  quadrupeds  of  cold 
climates  :  Asia  is  the  most  favourable  to  the 
productions,  and  growth  of  the  quadrupeds  of 
a  hot  climate.  But  the  greatest  of  all  animals, 
the  Mammoth,  was  not  an  animal  of  the  torrid, 
but  of  the  temperate  zone  ;  and  was  the  pro- 
duction of  both  countries,  of  Asia,  and  of  A- 
merica. 

Temper  and  Disposition.  Most  ani- 
hials  have  a  particular  disposition  and  character 
assigned  to  them  by  nature,  indelibly  fixed,  and 
which  distinguishes  the  whole  species.  Thus 
some  are  naturally  ^erce,  sanguinary,  and  car- 


l^i! 


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NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


,1;.  .  ■•  '.  :> 
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nivorous  ;  while  others  are  mild,  temperate, 
and  gentle  :  And  ?  11  of  them,  arc  not  a  little 
influenced,  by  the  climate  they  inhabit.  In  the 
hottest  climate,  and  in  the  burning  sands  of  Af- 
rica, the  most  ravenous,  and  the  fiercest  animah 
abound  :  The  lion,  the  tygef,  and  tlie  panther, 
are  there  ;  in  their  greatest  size,  their  largest 
numbers,  and  most  extreme  fierceness.  In 
such  places,  the  vegetables  also  contain  their 
strongest  qualities  ;  the  drugs^  perfumes,  and 
poisons,  are  the  most  active,  subtle,  and  pov\  er. 
ful.  In  America  every  thing  in  her  vegetables, 
fruits,  and  animals,  is  more  mild  and  temperate. 
The  quadrupeds  that  most  abound,  are  the  la- 
ma, paco,  buffalo,  elk,  deer,  fox,  beaver,  hares, 
rabbits,  and  squin-els  ;  animals,  marked  with  a 
mildness,  and  gentleness  of  character.  Those 
that  are  the  most  fierce,-  the  bear,  the  wolf,  the 
wild  cat,  the  otter,  the  congar,  or  tapyr,  are  seL 
dom  known  to  'make  their  attacks  upon  men, 
unless  they  •are  impelled  to  it  by  extreme  hun- 
ger, provocation,  or  self  defence.  It  was  not 
tlierefore  with  the  most  fierce  and  ravenous  ani^ 
mals,  that  America  abounded  :  Her  quadruped'J 
were  of  a  more  mild,  and  temperate  disposition. 
To  these,  her  climate  gives  the  greatest  size, 
the  highest  perfection,  and  the  largest  increase. 
Increase  and  Multiplying  Powek. 
The  increase  and  multiplying  poiver  of  animals, 
is  denved  partly  from  nature,  and  partly  from 
situation,  and  other  circumstances.  Nature 
has  made  those  animals  which  are  the  most 
large,  fl;erce,  and  noxious,  the  least  apt  to  mul- 
tiply. The  smaller  and  more  useful  any  quad- 
ruped is,  the  more  rapid  is  its  increase.     AH  of 


fl! 


!!< 


■i  ^s^ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        133 

them  bring  forth  their  young,  at  that  season  of 
the  year,  when  nature  has  made  the  most  suita- 
ble and  ample  provision,  for  their  food  and 
support.  And  then  they  multiply  with  this 
greatest  rapidity,  when  they  are  the  least  mo- 
lested by  man.  But  whatever  be  their  multi- 
plying power,  it  would  require  a  long  period  of 
time,  before  they  would  arrive  at  that  increase 
of  numbers,  in  which  their  progress  would  be 
checked,  by  the  want  of  food.  They  would 
naturally  spread  over  the  whole  continent,  be- 
fore they  arrived  to  such  a  state.  This  they 
had  done  in  every  part  of  America,  when  it  was 
first  discovered  by  the  Europeans  :  Every  part 
of  the  continent,  fitted  for  their  nourishment 
and  growth,  abounded  with  them.  How  far 
nature  may  proceed  this  way,  or  what  is  the 
greatest  number  of  quadrupeds,  that  the  uncul- 
tivated state  of  any  country  will  support,  we 
have  no  observations  to  determine.  But  it 
seems  probable,  that  the  maximum  had  already 
taken  place  ;  that  America  contained  her  full 
number  of  quadrupeds.  No  observations  or 
phenomena,  denote  that  there  has  been  any  in- 
crease of  these  animals,  in  the  uncultivated  parts 
of  the  continent,  since  its  first  discovery  ;  or 
that  they  ever  were  more  thick  and  numerous, 
in  any  other  part  of  the  globe.  How  long  a 
period  nature  required  to  advance  to  this  state 
in  America,  we  have  no  data  to  determine. 
But  if  we  may  judge  of  the  energy  with  which 
she  acts,  from  the  effects  of  her  multiplying 
power,  the  conclusion  will  be,  that  in  no  coun- 
ty has  she  displayed  greater  powers  of  fecundi- 
ty than  in  America.      These  circumstances 


VOL.     I. 


R 


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134 


N  \TURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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'' 

I      f.*''^ 

',' 

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\ 

ftl-  '^ 

denote  an  high  antiquity,  in  the  origin  of  the 
American  (jiiadrupeds  ;  and  a  great  fertility  in 
that  climate  and  country,  in  which  they  have 
attained  their  greatest  numbers,  their  greatebl 
magnitude,  and  tJitir  greatest  fecundity. 

BIRDS. 

TPIE  Birds-  wliich  abound  in  every  part  of 
America,  make  a  curious  and  beautiful  part  of 
her  natural  history.  Cateslnf  has  given  an  ele- 
gant description  of  the  birds  of  Carolina.  Belk- 
imh  has  furnished  a  eood  cataloij^ue  of  those  of 

/  'J  o 

Newhampshirc.  Most  of  the  birds  which  have 
been  mentioned  l)y  these  authors  are  to  be  found 
in  all  the  northern  states.  As  we  approach 
further  towards  the  north,  a  great  number  and 
variety  of  water  fovv  1  are  to  be  found,  in  the 
lakes,  rivers,  and  harbours,  which  have  never 
been  described,  or  classed. 

In    Vermont  we    have    most  of  the   birds, 
which  are  known  in  the  inland  parts,  and  lakes 
of  the  northern  climates.     Some  of  them  seem 
to  be  fitted  by  nature,  to  endure  all  the  severity 
of  our  climate,  and  are  to  be  seen  in  the  coldest 
weather  of  o'lr  winters.     Of  this  kind,  are 
The  Crow.     Corvus  Comix. 
Hawk,  forked  tail.     Falco  Fiircatus, 
Owl.     Strix  Asio. 
Blue  Jay.     Corvus  Cristattis. 
Snowbird.     Emher'iza  Hyemalis. 
Partridge.     Perdix  Sylvestris. 
Woodpecker,  red  headed.  Piciis  Capite  toto  rtihro, 

There  are  several  other  birds,  the  robbin, 
blackbird,  lark,  snipe,  bluebird,  &.c.  whicli  arc 


1 


\pril  r. 

(oa. 


10. 


,  Ap,2oSp.a» 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.       1.35 

seen  as  soon  as  the  snow  goes  off,  in  the  spring. 
They  are   not  seen  in  the   winter,  but  tlicy  arc 
found  late  in  the  fall.     From  their  late  and  ear- 
ly appearance,  it  is  not  improbable  that  some  of 
them  may  tarry  here  through  the  winter. 

Those  which  are  esteemed  birds  of  passage^ 
with  the  usual  times  of  their  appearance,  and 
departure,  are  .  ? .        ,  ' 

'     •        Tinicofap- 'Departure 
pciirancc. 

The  Snowbird  ^mi      tahyemal'is'now.-?^. 
Wild  goose,     ^xuas  t^.^adensis.    March 
Wild  Pigeon.  Columba  migratoriaMarch  ao. 
Hon  se  Swallow.  Hirundo  cauda  acculeata  ^ 
Barn  Swallow.     Hirundo  Rustica. 
Ground  Swallow.     Hirundo  lliparia. 
Black  Martin.     Hirundo  Perpurca, 

The  Snowbird  is  a  beautiful,  active,, spright- 
ly, little  animal.  They  are  generally  of  a  grey 
colour,  and  less  than  a  sparrow.  Flocks  of 
them  appear,  as  soon  as  the  snow  begins  to  fall 
in  any  considerable  quantity  ;  and  generally  a 
day  or  two  before.  They  perch  on  the  spires 
of  vegetables  above  the  snow,  on  the  bushes, 
and  trees ;  and  collect  on  the  spots  of  bare 
ground.  In  the  most  severe  storms  of  snow, 
these  birds  appear  to  be  the  most  active  and 
lively.  They  feed  on  the  seeds  of  vegetables, 
aad  are  extremely  fat, and  delicious  ;  but  they 
are  too  small  to  be  molested  on  this  account. 
They  seem  to  be  of  difi'erent  colours,  black, 
white,  and  grey  ;  but  they  all  disappear  as  soon 
as  the  snow  goes  off. 

The  Wild  Goose,  from  the  beginning   of 
April,   to  the   middle   of  November,   resides 


l::'i 


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t 


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136 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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chiefly  in  the  more  northern,  and  northeasterly 
parts  of  America.  In  those  parts  they  produce 
their  young,  and  are  to  be  found  in  the  rivers 
and  harbours,  in  immense  numbers.  In  No- 
vember they  come  in  large  flocks  from  the 
north,  and  northeast,  and  pass  ofl^to  the  south- 
west. In  Mai'ch  and  April,  they  return  fibm 
the  southwest  in  a  contrary  direction,  and  go 
back  to  their  summer  habitation.  These  flocks 
frequently  consist  of  fifiy  or  sixty  :  Thty  fly  at  a 
great  height,  and  appear. to  observe  great  regu- 
lai'ity  in  their  passage.  They  sometimes  fol- 
low one  another  in  a  straight  line,  but  arc  more 
generally  drawn  up  in  the  form  of  a  wedge  ; 
and  appear  to  be  led  by  one  of  the  strongest, 
and  most  active.  While  they  keep  together, 
they  seem  to  understand  their  course  perfectly 
well  ;  but  if  by  any  means  their  order  is  bro- 
ken, and  the  flock  dispersed,  several  of  them 
wander  out  of  their  course,  appear  to  be  per- 
plexed, descend  to  the  earth,  and  are  often  kil- 
led or  taken.  When  tamed,  they  will  join 
with  a  flock  of  domestic  geese  ;  but  at  the  usu- 
al times  of  migration,  are  very  apt  to  join  any 
flock,  which  approaches  near  to  them,  in  their 
passage. 

In  the  Wild  Pigeon,  the  multiplying 
power  of  nature  acts  with  great  force  and  vigour. 
The  male  and  female  always  pair  :  they  sit 
alternately  upon  the  eggs,  and  generally  hatch 
but  two  at  a  time  ;  but  this  is  repeated  several 
times  in  a  season.  The  accounts  which  are 
given  of  the  number  of  pigeons  in  the  unculti- 
vated parts  of  the  country  will  appear  almost  in- 
credible to  those  who  have  never  ^eeq  their 


ir  » 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.       137 

nests.  The  survey er,  Ric/iard  Haztn^  who  ran 
the  line  which  divides  Masbachusetts  from  Ver- 
mont, in  1741,  gave  this  account  of  the  appear- 
ances, which  he  met  with  to  the  westward  of 
Connecticut  river.  **  For  three  miles  together 
the  pigeons'  nests  were  so  thick,  that  five  hun- 
dred might  have  been  told  on  the  beech-trees  at 
one  time  ;  and  could  they  have  been  counted  on 
tliC  hemlocks,  as  well,  I  doubt  not  but  five  thou- 
sand at  one  turn  round."*  The  remarks  of 
the  first  settlers  of  Vermont,  fully  confirm  this 
account.  The  follow  ing  relation  was  given  mc, 
by  one  of  the  earliest  settlers  at  Cendon : 
"  the  number  of  pigeons  was  immense.  Twen- 
ty five  nests  were  frequently  to  be  found  on 
one  tree.  The  earth  was  covered  with 
these  beech  trees,  and  with  hemlocks,  thus  lor  I . 
ed  with  the  nests  of  pigeons.  For  an  hundred 
acres  together,  the  ground  was  covered  with 
their  dung,  to  the  depth  of  two  inches.  Their 
noise  in  the  evening  was  exti'emely  troublesome, 
and  so  great  that  the  traveller  could  not  get  any 
sleep,  where  their  nests  were  thick.  About  an 
hour  after  sunrise,  they  rose  in  such  numbers 
as  to  darken  the  air.  When  the  young  pigeons 
xvere  grown  to  a  considerable  bigness,  before 
they  could  readily  fly,  it  was  common  for  the 
settlers  to  cut  down  the  trees,  and  gatlier  a  horse 
load  in  a  few  minutes.*'  This  account  may 
appear  improbable  to  those  who  have  not  ob- 
served the  fecundity  of  nature.  But  it  falls 
much  short  of  what  has  been  observed  in  the 
state  of  Ohio.     The  following  is  from  Harrises 

*£ci;iOsp'i  bwtorr  •;  ^c^rbuDpiUrc,  Vol  III.  p.  171. 


.;» 


I 


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158 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


:  !   § 


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•  »•        !; 


account  of  that  state  p.  179,  180.  **  The  vas* 
"  flights  oi"  pigeons  in  this  country  seem  incrcd- 
**  ibie.  But  there  is  a  huj.^e  In  xst  in  Watcr- 
'*  ibid,  containing  several  hundred  acres,  whkh 
*'  has  been  killed  in  consc([utncc  of  their  light- 


ti 


mg  upon  it  during  the  autumn  of  1801. 
"  Such  numbers  lodged  upon  the  trees  tliat 
*'  they  broke  off  large  limbs  ;  and  the  ground  he- 
*'  low  is  covered,  and  in  some  places  a  foot 
*'  thick,  with  their  dung,  whicli  has  not  only 
''  killed  all  the  undergnjwth,  but  all  the  trees 
**  are  dead  as  if  they  had  been  girdled." 

The  aljove,  he  adds  is  confinned  by  a  letter 
from  the  Rev.  Mr.  6/or//,  dated  Marietta,  June 
3,  1G03.  "  I  ha\  <;*  visited  t\\  o  pigeon-roosts, 
"  and  have  h-^ard  of  a  third.  ''I'hose  I  have  seen 
*'  are  astonishing.  One  is  supposed  to  cover 
*' one  thousand  acres  ;  the  otljer  is  still  larger. 
*'  The  destruction  of  timber  and  brush  on  sueh 
*'  large  tracts  of  land  by  these  small  animals  is 
*'  almost  incredible.  IIo\v  many  millions  of 
**  them  must  have  assembled  to  effect  it  !  espe- 
"  cially  as  it  was  done  in  the  course  of  a  few 
**  weeks."  The  settlement  of  the  country  has 
since  set  bounds  to  this  luxuriancy  of  animal 
life  ;  diminished  the  number  of  these  birds,  and 
drove  them  further  to  the  northward. 

We  have  foui*  species  of  Sw  allows  in  this 
part  of  America.  I.  The  house  swallow.  This 
may  be  readily  distinguished  from  the  rest,  hj 
the  greater  forkedness  of  its  tail.  It  has  also 
a  red  spot  upon  its  forehead  ;  and  under  its 
chin.  This  species  build  their  nests  in  chim- 
pcys.  Their  nests  are  made  of  small  sticks, 
cemented  together,  with  si  kind  of  gum,  and 


■  \ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       130 

mud  ;  they  arc  covered  or  arched  over  the  tops, 
ami  the  aperture  is  on  one  sklc.       TIrsc    swal- 
lows appear  the  earliest  ol"  any,  In    the    sprln):]^  : 
And  a  few  days  hriorc  their    dej)arture    in   the 
full,  they  associate  on  the  tops  of  buildings,  dry 
trees,  and  bushes,  as  if  about  to  depart  in  com- 
piinies.     2.  The  barn  swallow.       The    size    of 
this,  is  rather  less  than  that  of  the   other  ;  and 
the  tail  is  not  forked  so  nuich.     These  swallows 
hiiild  their  nests  in  barns   and  out  houses  ;  and 
they  are  formed  of    grass  straw,    and    feathers. 
Their  eggs  are  speckled,  of  a  dark  brown   and 
white.      It  is  called  the  barn   swallow  from  the 
place  in  which   it  generally  builds  its  nest.     3. 
The  ground  swallow.    This  is  the  smallest  of  the 
whole  species.     These  swallows   form   a  hole 
fn  sandy  banks,  and  on  the    sides    of  rivers,    of 
eighteen    or   twenty    four    inches    in    length. 
Their  nests  arc  made  ut  the  extremitv  of  these 
holes,  of  straw  and  feathers,  laid    together  in  a 
loose  and   careless    manner.      Their  eggs   are 
perfectly  white.     The  holes  in  which   they   are 
laid,  are  designed  only  for  their  nests :  None  of 
the  swallows  ever  remain  in    them,   during  the 
winter.     4.  The  black  martin.     This  is  the  lar- 
"■est  of  all   our   swallows.       Thev    build  their 
nests  under  the  eaves  of  houses,  in   the   secret 
or  retired  places  of  out  houses,  and   old  build- 
ings.    Their  nests  are  made  of  straw  and  feath- 
ers.    They  arrive  the  latest,  and  disappear   the 
soonest  of  any  of  the  swallows,  w-hich  visit  us. 

The  usual  times  of  the  appearance  and  disap- 
pearance of  these  birds,  serve  to  mark  the  tem- 
perature of  the  climate,  with  as  much  precision, 
as  any  of  the  phenomena  of  nature.      But  they 


1 1  . 


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140 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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do not  seem  to  be  properly  birds  of  passafre. 
At  Danby  in  this  state,  the  inhabitants  report, 
that  some  of  them  were  taken  out  of  a  pond 
in  that  town,  some  years  ago.  A  man  was  em- 
ployed  in  the  winter,  to  ))rocure  the  roots  of  the 
pond  lily,  for  medicinal  purposes.  Among  the 
mud  and  roots  which  he  threw  out,  several  swal- 
lows  were  found  inclosed  in  the  mud  ;  alive, 
but  in  a  torpid  state.  The  account  is  not 
doubted  among  the  inhabitants ;  but  I  have 
not  the  testimony  of  any  i)ersons  who  saw 
these  swallows.  It  has  been  doubted  by  some 
able  naturalists,  whether  it  is  possible  for  the 
swallow  to  live  in  such  a  situation.  I  saw  an 
instance,  which  puts  the  possibility  of  the  fact 
beyond  all  room  for  doubt.  About  the  year 
1760,  two  men  were  digging  in  the  salt  marsh 
at  Cambridge,  in  Massachusetts  :  On  the  bank 
of  Charles*  river  about  two  feet  below  the  sur- 
face of  the  ground,  they  dug  up  a  swallow, 
wholly  surrounded  and  covered  with  mud. 
The  swallow  was  in  a  torpid  state,  but  being 
held  in  their  hands,  it  revived  in  about  half  an 
hour.  The  place  where  this  swallow  was  dug 
up,  was  every  day  covered  with  the  salt  water  ; 
which  at  every  high  tide,  was  four  or  five  feet 
deep.  The  time  when  this  swallow  was  found, 
"was  the  latter  part  of  the  month  of  February  : 
but  the  men  assured  me,  they  had  never  found 
any  other  swallows  in  such  a  situation.  The 
species  called  the  house  or  chimney  swallow, 
has  been  found  during  the  winter,  in  hollovr 
trees.  At  Middlebury  in  this  state,  there  was 
a  large  hollow  elm,  called  by  the  people  in  the 
vicinity  the  swallow  tree.     From  a  man  who, 


i._^  i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       lit 

for  several  years,  lived  nliliiii  twenty  rods  of 
it,  I  procured  this  information  :  lie  always 
ihoiiL^lit  the  swallows  tarried  in  the  tree  through 
l!iu  winter,  and  avoided  cuttin,^  it  down,  on  that 
ctxount.  About  the  first  of  IVlay,  the  swallovrs 
(tint' out  of  it,  in  large  nuinbirs,  about  the 
juiddle  of  tiie  day  ;  and  soon  returned.  As  the 
wcadier  grew  warmer,  they  came  out  in  die 
morning  widi  a  loud  noise,  or  roar,  and  were 
\'jon  dispersed  :  About  half  an  hour  before  sun 
down,  they  returned  in  millions,  circulating  two 
(ir  three  times  round  the  tree,  and  then  descen- 
iliug  like  a  stream,  into  a  hole  about  S!,.ty  feet 
jVoni  the  ground.  It  was  customary  for  persons 
i  I  the  vicinity,  to  visit  this  tree,  to  observe  the 
motions  of  these  birds  :  And  when  any  persons 
(listurbcd  their  operations,  by  striking  violent- 
ly against  the  tree,  with  their  axes,  the  swallow«i 
would  rush  out  in  millions,  and  with  a  gre:.t 
noise.  In  November,  1791,  the  top  of  this  tree, 
\v;is  blow^n  down,  twenty  feet  below  where 
the  swallow^s  entered.  There  has  been  no 
appearance  of  the  swallows  since.  Upon 
cutting  down  the  remainder,  an  immense  quan- 
tity of  excrements,  quills  and  feathers  were 
round  ;  but  no  appearance  or  relicks  of  any 
nests. 

Another  of  these  swallow  trees,  *'  ».  at  j5r/c/- 
port.  The  man  who  lived  nearest  to  it,  gave 
this  account  :  The  swallows  were  first  obser- 
ved to  come  out  of  the  tree,  in  the  spring  ;  a- 
bout  the  time,  that  the  leaves  first  began  to  ap- 
pear on  the  trees.  From  that  season,  they 
( ame  out  in  the  morning,  about  half  an  hour  af- 

VOL.    I.  S 


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142         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

ter  sunrise  :  They  rushed  out  like  a  stream,  as 
big  as  the  hole  in  the  tree  would  admit,  and  as- 
cended in  a  perpendicular  line,  until  they  were 
above  the  height  of  the  adjacent  trees  ;  then  as- 
sumed  a  circular  motion,  performing  their  rev- 
olutions two  or  three  times,  but  always  in  a  lar- 
ger circle,  un^  then  dispersed  in  every  direc- 
tion. A  little  before  siuidown,  they  returned 
in  immense  numbers,  forming  several  circular 
motions,  and  then  descended  like  a  stream  in- 
to the  hole,  from  whence  they  came  out  in  the 
morning.  About  the  middle  of  Septeml:)er, 
they  were  seen  entering  the  tree,  for  the  last 
time.  These  birds  were  all  of  the  species 
called  the  house  or  chimney  swallow.  The 
tree  was  a  large  hollow  elm,  the  hole  at  Mhicli 
they  entered  was  about  forty  feet  above  the 
ground,  and  about  nine  inches  diameter.  The 
swallows  made  their  first  appearance  in  the 
spring,  and  their  last  appearance  in  the  fall,  in 
the  vicinity  of  this  tree  ;  and  the  neighboring 
inhabitants  had  no  doubt,  but  that  the  swallo^vs 
continued  in  it  during  the  winter.  A  few  years 
ago,  a  hole .  was  cut  at  the  bottom  of  the 
tree  :  From  that  time,  the  swallows  have  been 
gi'adually  forsaking  the  tree,  and  have  now  al- 
iiost  deserted  it.  The  following  account  from 
J\'u*han  Rumseyj'K^<\»  oi  Hubbardton  is  more 
circumstantial  and  conclusive.  "  Sometime  in 
the  month  of*  March,  A.  D.  1786,  when  the 
snow  was  deep  on  the  ground,  I  was  making 
sugar  in  the  town  of  HubbardtoUy  with  the  as- 
sistance of  some  boys.  The  boys  informed  mc 
that  they  ha4  discovered  a  large  number  of 
birds  flying  out  fram  a  tree.    I  went  myself  t© 


f 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      Ul 

the  tree,  and  found  that  the  birds  were  swallows 
of  the  chimney  kind.  The  tree  was  an  elm  of 
ki  large  size,  and  hollow  fifty  or  sixty  feet  from 
tlie  ground.  Remaining  for  several  days  in  the 
vicinity  I  observed  the  swallows  in  the  fore  part 
of  the  day  going  out,  and  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  day  going  in  at  the  same  place.  I  chop- 
ped a  hole  in  the  tree  from  ^vhence  I  could  se« 
through  it  to  the  place  where  they  went  out, 
and  found  that  they  extended  from  fifty  or  sixty- 
feet  in  height  near  down  to  the  ground  ;  and 
appeared  to  be  sticking  to  the  tree  as  thick  as 
they  could  be  placed,  and  that  the  sides  of  the 
cavity  were  every  where  lined  with  tliem  ;  a 
considerable  part  of  them  seemed  to  lie  in  a 
torpid  state." 

From  these  accounts  I  am  led  to  believe  that 
the  house  swallow,  in  this  part  of  America, 
generally  resides  during  the  winter,  in  the  hollow 
of  trees  ;  and  that  the  ground  swallows,  find 
security  in  the  mud,  at  the  bottom  of  lakes, 
rivers,  and  ponds. 

Of  the  Singing  Birds,   the   following  are 
the  most  distinguished,  either  by  the  variety   of 
their  notes,  or  by  the  melody  of  their  sound  : 
The  Robin.     Tardus  Migratorious, 
Skylark.     Alaucla  Alpcstrk* 
Thrush.     Turdus  Rufncs, 
Thrasher,  or  Mockbird,     Turdus  Polyglotfos* 
Boblincoln.     Einbcriza  Oryzivora* 
Ycllowbird.     Fring'dla  Aurea. 
Bluebird.     Motacilla  Coendia. 
Wren.     MotacUla  Regulus. 
Red  winged  Blackbird.     Turdus  Niger  Aik  Su  ] 
perne  Uubentibus* 


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Catbird.     Miiscicapa  Vertice  N'lgro. 
Golden  Robin,  or  Goldfinch.     Or'wlus  Awetu, 
Springbird.     Fringilla^ 
Hangbird.     Oriolus  Icterus, 

The  only  natural  music,  is  that  of  birds. 
In  the  uncultivated  state,  and  parts  of  the  coun> 
try,  this  delightful  sound  is  not  to  be  heard. 
Either  disgusted  with  so  gloomy  a  scene,  or 
disliking  the  food  in  the  uncultivated  lands,  the 
musical  birds  do  not  deign  to  d^vell  in  such  pla- 
ces ;  or  to  put  forth  their  melody  to  the 
rocks,  and  to  the  trees.  But  no  sooner  has 
man  discharged  his  duty,  cut  down  the 
trees,  and  opened  the  fields  to  the  enlivening 
influence  of  the  air  and  the  sun,  than  the  birds 
of  harmony  repair  to  the  spot,  and  give  it  new 
charms  by  the  animating  accents  of  their  music. 
From  break  of  day  till  about  nine  o'clock,  the  lovely 
harmony  is  heard  from  every  quarter.  About 
that  time  of  dav,  the  music  ce?.ses.  The  nuisi- 
cians  retire  to  other  employments  ;  and  there  is 
no  further  concert,  until  next  morning.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  delightful  scenes,  \\hich  nature 
affords  :  But  like  most  of  our  delicate  pleasures, 
it  is  not  to  be  enjoyed,  but  iu  the  cultivated 
state. 

A  great  variety  of  birds  generally  resort  to 
tlic  ponds,  rivers,  and  lakes  ;  which  on  that  ac- 
count, arc  commonly  distinguished  by  the  name 
of  IFater  Fowl.  Among  these  aquatic  birds^ 
the  most  common  are 

The  Goose,  three  species.     Aiiser  Canademk. 
Duck,  eight  or  ten.     Anas 
Teal,  two.     Anas. 
Heron,  two.    Ardea, 


»  1. 


n  I 


H 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        14S 

Cull,  two.     Larus. 
Shelldrake,  three.     Mergtis, 
Crane.     Ardea  Canadensis. 
Stork.     Ardea  Cieonia. 
Loon.     Colymhus  Immer. 
Wiiterhen.     Alea  Arttca 

Tpiere  are  many  other  birds,  which  do  not 
Hill  under  either  of  the  above  descriptions.  Of 
this  kind,  the  following  are  the  most  coiumon 
and  numerous. 

The  Eagle,  two  species.     Falco. 
Hawk,  four.     Falco. 
Owl,  three.     Strix, 
Woodpecker,  seven  or  eight.     Pious* 
Kingbird.     Lanius  Tyrannus. 
Crow  Blackbird.     Gracula  Qidscula. 
Cuckow.     Cuculiir  Amcricanus* 
Kingfisher.     Alcedo  Alcyon. 
Woodcock.     Scolopax  Rustica» 
Woodsnijie.     Scolopax  Fedoa, 
Quail,     Pei'dix  Mi?io?\ 
Curlew,  two.     Scolopax- 
Plover,  four. 
Wild  Turkey. 
Turtle  Dove. 


Charadriiis. 
Maleagris  Gallopavo, 
Qolumha  Carol'mensis. 
Whip  poor  Will.     Caprimulgus  Europauiy  B<. 
Nighthawk.     Caprinmlgus  Americamis. 
Hedgebird.     Miiscicapa  Canadensis. 
Crossbill,     Loxia  Curvirostra. 
Hummingbird.     Trochilus  Coluhm. 

In  addition  to  these,  there  is  a  mamillary  bi- 
ped, the  Bat  (vespertilio  murinus  :J  And  a  great 
variety  and  number  of  small  birds,  which  have 
never  been  enumerated,  described,  or  classed. 
We  meet  with  them  every  day  in  the  fields,  but 


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they  arc  not  distinguished  by  any  proper  names. 
It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  in  the  birds  of 
America,  nature  proceeds  from  her  most  minute 
and  curious,  to  the  most  sublime  and  magnifi. 
cent  productions.  The  Hummingbird  is  tfce 
least  of  all  birds.  The  Condor,  a  bird  of  South 
America,  in  bulk,  strength,  and  courage,  ir  the 
greatest.  Both  of  these  arc  peculiar  to  Ameri- 
ca. The  gradation  from  the  least  to  the  great- 
est, through  all  the  intermediate  steps  and  de- 
grees, is  nicely  and  beautifully  filled  up  with  an 
infinite  vaiiety  of  others. 

FISHES. 

Of  the  great  variety   of  fish,  which  nature 
has  produced  in  the  waters  of  America,  but  a 
iinall  part  are  found  in  tlie  internal  parts  of  the 
continent.      The  largest   collection   of  waters 
which  we  ha^e  in  Vermont,  are  the  lakes  Cham- 
plain,     Memphremagog,     Connecticut      river, 
with  the   ponds   and   streams   connected  with 
them.     In  these  waters  we  have 
The  Sturgeon,     jlcipniser  SUtrio* 
Salmon.     Salmo. 
Salmon  trout.     Salmo  Salar. 
Bass.     Perca  Ocelata. 
Pickerel,  or  Pike.     Esax  Liteim, 
Shad.      Clupra  Alosa. 
Alcwife.     Clitpea. 
Eel.     Muvfetm  Afiguilia. 
Trout.     Tm9ia. 
Red  Perch.     Perca  Fliwiatalis. 
AV'hite  }*erch.     Perca  Luciopir€«i» 
VquU     ^'ii^'us  Fc'lis, 


1 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       U1 

Shiner.     Pcrca  Nobilis.  , 

Cliub..     Perca  Phtladelphiea, 

Bream.     Perca  ChrysBpUra. 

Bret.     Chipea  Miuima, 

Menow. 

Sucker. 

Dace. 

Migration  is  not  peculiar  to  the  birds  : 
Several  kinds  of  fishes,  have  as  regular  periods 
of  approach,  and  departure,  as  the  birds  of  pas- 
sage. This  is  the  case  with  the  sali^on.  In 
the  spring,  about  the  25th  of  April,  these  fish 
begin  to  pass  up  Connecticut  river,  and  proceed 
to  the  highest  branches.  About  the  sam«  time, 
or  a  little  later,  they  are  found  in  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  and  the  large  streams  which  fall  into  it. 
So  strong  is  this  instinct  of  migration  in  the 
salmon,  that  in  passing  up  tlie  rivers,  they  force 
their  passage  over  cataracts  of  several  feet  in 
height,  and  in  opposition  to  the  most  rapid  cur- 
rents. They  are  sometimes  seen  to  make  six 
or  seven  attempts,  before  they  can  succeed  to 
ascend  the  falls.  When  they  ai'e  thus  going  up 
in  the  spring,  they  are  round  and  fat,  of  an  ex- 
cellent taste,  and  flavour.  From  the  first  week 
in  May,  to  the  second  week  in  June,  they  are 
taken  in  great  numbers.  When  thev  arrive  at 
the  upper  parts  of  the  rivers,  they  deposit  their 
spawn,  and  remain  there  during  the  summer 
season  ;  but  become  very  lean,  and  flaccid. 
Towards  the  latter  end  of  September,  they  re- 
turn to  the  ocean  ;  but  so  much  emaciated,  that 
they  are  not  taken,  or  used  for  food.  Some  of 
these  salmon  in  the  spring,  will  weigh  thirty 
five  or  forty  pounds.     They  migrate  only  to 


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cold  waters.  None  of  them  are  ever  found  to 
the  south,  or  west,  of  Connecticut  river.  Those 
that  go  further  to  the  northward,  and  pass  up 
the  ri\er  St.  Lawrence,  are  generally  more  lar^c 
and  rich,  than  those  which  come  from  the  south- 
ward. 

The  Salmon  Trout,  in  its  form,  dimension*;, 
and  ai^pcarance,  very  much  resembles  the  sal- 
mon ;  but  the  meat  is  of  a  finer  grain,  and  of  a 
more  delicate  taste,  and  flavour,  ""['his  trout  h 
found  in  Lake  Champlain,  and  in  the  rivers  ;ind 
ponds,  which  arc  connected  witli  it.  Thi  sc 
lish  are  taken  with  the  hook  and  line,  like  the 
cod  and  haddock.  Trouts  from  seven  to  tcT 
pounds  are  common.  In  a  pond  at  Leicester 
in  this  state,  some  have  been  taken  ■whir  h 
weighed  twenty  five  pounds  :  Others  much 
larger  have  bciiu  seen  leaping  out  of  the  v.atci-, 
which  the  fisherman  supposed  would  weigh 
from  thirty  five  to  forty  pounds. 

The  Pike  or  Pickerel  abounds  mucli  in 
Lake  Champlain.  It  is  there  called  by  tiie 
name  of  Muschilongoe,  and  grows  to  a  great 
size.  They  are  easily  taken  with  a  spear,  and 
some  of  them  have  weighed  forty  pounds,  and 
were  six  feet  in  length. 

Of  the  small  fish,  which  reside  In  the  brooks 
and  small  streams,  the  most  numerous  and  use- 
ful, are  the  trout,  perch,  and  sucker.  The 
trout,  in  its  colour,  form,  and  taste,  resembles 
the  salmon  trout,  but  is  of  much  smaller  dimen- 
sions. The  largest  of  them,  will  not  weigh 
more  than  two  poimds  and  an  half,  or  three 
pounds.  This  fish  is  found  in  all  the  streams, 
which  have  their  origin  in  the  mountains  ;  and 


tomar 
shillii 
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than  ' 
incre 
othei 

V( 


iin 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.       149 

p-encrally  very  near  their  sources,  In  tlie  high 
lands.  The  perch  and  the  sucker  arc  also  \  cry 
numerous,  and  useful,  and  of  nearly  the  same 
dimensions.  The  most  uncommon  instance, 
which  I  have  ever  seen,  of  the  multiplying  pow- 
er of  nature,  was  in  the  increase  of  these  fish. 
At  Tinmouth,  is  a  brook  about  twenty  or  thir- 
ty feet  wide,  and  two  or  three  deep  ;  in  ^^'hich 
the  trout  and  sucker  were  to  be  found  of  the 
common  size,  and  number.  A  dam  was  built 
across  this  stream,  for  the  purpose  of  supplyinij 
water  for  a  sawmill.  This  dam  formed  a  pond, 
which  covered  by  estimation,  about  a  thousand 
acres,  where  the  trees  were  thick,  and  the  soil 
had  never  been  cultivated.  In  two  or  three 
years,  the  fish  were  multiplied  to  an  incredible 
number.  They  were  become  so  numerous, 
that  at  the  upper  end  of  the  pond,  where  the 
brook  fell  into  it,  in  the  spring  the  fish  are  seen 
running  one  over  another  ;  embarrassed  with 
their  own  numbers,  and  unable  to  escape  from 
any  attempt  that  is  made  to  take  them.  They 
arc  taken  by  the  hands,  at  pleasure  ;  and  the 
swine  catch  them  without  difficultv.  With  a 
net,  the  fishermen  often  tnke  a  bushel  at  a 
draught,  and  repeat  their  labour  with  the  same 
success.  Carts  are  loaded  with  then:,  in  as  short 
a  time,  as  the  people  could  gather  them  up, 
M'hen  thrown  upon  the  banks  ;  and  it  is  cus- 
tomary to  sell  them  in  the  fishing  season,  for  a 
shilling  by  the  bushel.  ,  While  they  have  thus 
increased  in  numbers,  they  are  become  more 
than  double  to  their  former  size.  This  extreme 
increase  docs  not  seem  to  be  derived  from  any 
other  cause,  than  that  of  collecting  the  waters 

VOL,    I,  T 


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150 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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in  such  a  quantity,  as  to  form  the  pond  ;  and 
thus  increaF.e  the  means  of  subsistence,  by  car- 
rying the  water  over  a  large  tract  of  rich,  and 
uncultivated  land.  Events  of  a  similar  nature 
generally  take  place,  when  an  artificial  pond  is 
made  in  any  part  of  the  country,  not  before  cul- 
tivated ;  and  probably  from  the  same  cause.* 

In  the  production  of  fish,  nature  seems  to 
have  been  extremely  prolific,  in  every  part  of 
America.  Their  species,  their  multiplying 
power,  and  the  age  at  which  they  become  pro- 
lific,  are  beyond  our  knov.ledgc,  and  computa- 
tion. The  brooks,  rivers,  ponds,  and  lakes,  arc 
every  where,  stored  with  them.  The  sea  coasts 
are  one  continued  range  of  fisWng  banks,  cov- 
ered with  cod,  haddock,  and  other  animals  of 
the  ocean.  The  whale  is  generally  esteemed 
the  greatest  animal,  which  nature  has  produced 
in  the  water  :  In  the  seas  of  America,  this  is  to 
be  found  in  its  greatest  perfection  of  magnitude 
and  numbers. 

Fossil  shells  are  frequently  found  at  some 
distance  from  the  banks  of  our  lakes,  rivers, 
brooks,  and  meadows.  Some  have  been  found 
on  the  sides,  or  rather  in  the  gullies  of  the 
mountains.  Such  productions  require  a  collec- 
tion of  water  for  their  formation.  Naturalists 
have  proposed  many  theories  and  speculations, 


M 


F\ 


♦  THE  number  of  fish  in  the  rivers  of  South  America,  is  fully  tqual 
to  any  thing  that  takes  place,  in  the  northern  parts  of  the  continent.  "  In 
the  Maragnon,"  says  P.  Acugna,  **  Fish  are  so  plentiful,  thaty  without 
any  art,  they  may  take  them  with  their  hands." 

"In  the  Orinoco,"  says  P.  Gumilla,  "besides  an  infinite  variety  of  oth- 
er fish,  tortoises  or  turtle  abound  in  such  numbers,  tliat  I  cannot  find 
words  Co  express  it.  I  doubt  not  but  thtit  such  as  read  my  account  will 
accuse  me  of  exaggeration :  But  I  can  alfirm,  that  it  is  as  difficult  t« 
count  them,  as  to  count  the  sands  on  the  bank  of  that  river."  Hist.  del. 
Orcaoque,  ii.  c.  22,p>59-  M.dcla  Condamine  confirm*  their  accounts 


'1,  1 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      151 

to  account  for  the  collection  of  water  in  such 
places,  where  there  are  now  no  appearances  of 
the  kind. 

In  their  descent  from  the  mountains,  the 
brooks  and  rivers  must  every  where  have  form- 
ed themselves  into  lakes,  ponds,  and  small  col- 
lections of  water  :  And  it  was  not  until  after 
long  periods  of  time,  that  they  could  form  for 
themselves  channels  of  such  depth,  as  to  dis- 
charge the  waters  which  had  been  thus  collect- 
ed. Some  of  these  ponds  were  formed  on  the 
sides  of  tlie  mountains,  and  others  overflowed 
what  are  now  called  the  meadows  ;  and  many 
of  their  ancient  phenomena  yet  remain.  The 
waters  have  long  since  formed  the  channels,  by 
which  they  are  now  discharged  into  the  ocean. 
In  such  places,  fossil  shells  are  yet  found  : 
they  are  the  productions  of  former  times,  when 
those  places  were  covered  by  the  waters  de- 
scending from  the  mountains  ;  then  collected 
into  quantities  for  want  of  natural  channels,  now 
drawn  off  by  the  depth  of  the  channels  which 
the  waters  have  formed,  and  constantly  render- 
ed more  and  more  deep. 

REPTILES  AND  INSECTS. 
THAT  class  of  animals,  which  are  distin- 
guished by  the  names  of  reptiles,  and  insects, 
are  numerous  in  every  part  of  America.  They 
abound  the  most,  and  are  of  the  largest  size,  in 
the  hottest  parts  of  the  continent.  In  a  climate 
so  cold  as  that  of  Vermont,  they  are  compara- 
tively of  but  a  few  species,  and  small  in  their 
size  ;  but  they  exist  in  great  numbers.  The 
following  are  our 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


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AMPHIBIOUS  BEPTILES, 

The  Turtle,  two  species.     Testiulo. 
Toad.     liiDia. 
Frf)')',  five.     Rana. 
Lizard.     Ijwf^rta  punctata. 
S  w  i  ft .     Lacertd  fusc'ta  ta . 

There  are  several  aecounty  in  natural  histo- 
ry', of  toads  bcini^  found  in  the  hearts  of  trees, 
and    ill   solid  rocks,  wholly   inclosed,  and  hhiit 
up  from  tlie  air,  and  all  appearance  of  food  ;  and 
beini^  taken  alive,  out  of  such    situations.     In 
the  Memoirs  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences,  tlu  rr 
is  an  account  that  in    the  year  1731,   a    toad 
was    found     in    the    hciirt    of     an    old     oak 
nearNantz,  vvid\out  any  visible  entrance  toils 
habitation.     From  the '^izc   of  the   tree,  it  wai^ 
concluded,  that  the  toad  must  have  been  confin- 
ed in  that  situation,  at  least  eiglity  or  an   hun- 
dred years.-*       We    have   several   instances  in 
Vermont,  cauallv  extraordinary.     At  Windsor, 
a  town  joinint^  to  Connecticut  river,  in  Se])tem- 
ber,  1790,  a  living  frog  was  dug  up  at  thede])th 
of  nine  leet,  from  the  surface  of  the  earth.     Ste- 
phen Jacobs^   ]".s(p  from  whom  I  have  tliis  ac- 
count, infornr.  me,  that  the   place   where  this 
frog  was  found,  was  about  half  a  mile  from  the 
nver,  on  the  intervale  lands,  which  are  annually 
overflowed  by  its  waters.     At  Castleton,  in  the 
year    1779,   the    inhabitants   were  ejigaged  in 
building  a  fort,   near  the  centre  of  the  town. 
Digging  into  the  earth  five  or  six  feet  belov.^ 
the  surface,  they  found  many  Irogs,  apparently 
inactive,  and  supposed  to  be  dead.     Being  ex- 


if 


•  Siucllic's  Philosophy  cf  Natural  History,  p.  i  a?.. 


■  i  :   \ 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.       153 

posed  to  the  aii\  animation  soon  appeared,  and 
they  were  found  to  be  alive,  anrl  heaUhy.  I 
lrd\e  tills  account  from  General  Clarke^  and  a 
}A\''  Mou/fon,  ^vho  were  present  when  th,cs« 
f.(  gs  were  duji;  up.  Upon  view in.cj  the  spot,  it 
did  n(A  appeiu*  to  mc,  that  it  hud  e\er  been 
overflowed  A\ilh  water,  but  it  abounded  with 
springs.  A  more  remarkable  instance  was  at 
Burlington,  u[)on  Onion  river.  In  the  year 
]  788,  Samuel  Lanc%  Esq.  was  dig|:^ino;  a  well 
near  his  house.  At  the  depth  of  tvven  y  five  or 
diirty  feet,  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the 
labourers  threw  out  with  their  shovels,  some- 
thing w  hich  they  suspected  to  be  groundnuts, 
or  stones  covered  \\\\h  earth.  Upon  examining 
these  appeiuiuices,  they  were  found  to  be  frogs ; 
to  which,  the  earth  every  where  adhered.  The 
examination  was  then  made  of  the  earth,  in  the 
well,  where  they  were  digging.  A  large  num- 
ber of  frogs  were  found  covered  w  ith  the  earth, 
and  so  numerous,  that  several  of  them  were  cut 
in  pieces  by  the  spades  of  the  workmen.  Be- 
ing exposed  to  the  air,  they  soon  became  ac- 
tive ;  but  unable  to  endure  the  direct  rays  of 
the  sun,  the  most  of  them  perished.  This  ac- 
count is  from  Mr.  Lane,  and  Mr.  Lawrejwe, 
one  of  the  \vorkmen,  ^\■ho  w  ere  both  present 
w  hen  the  frogs  were  dug  up.  From  the  depth 
of  earth,  w ith  which  these  Irogs  were  covered, 
it  cannot  be  doubted  but  that  they  must  have 
been  covered  o\  er  in  the  earth,  for  many  ages, 
or  rather  centuries.  The  timber  on  the  adja- 
cent land  had  grow^i  very  large  ;  a  pine  tree  not 
far  from  the  well,  was  more  than  twelve  feet  in 
circumference.     The  appearances  denote  that 


I 


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NATURAL   AND  CIVL 


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the  place  from  whciict:  these  frop;R  »\cc  taV^n, 
ivus  once  the  bottom  of  a  channel  or  lak  ,  form- 
ed by  the  waters  of  Onion  river.  In  diggiiu; 
the  same  well,  at  the  depth  of  forty  one  feet  and 
an  half  from  the  surface,  the  workmen  found 
the  body  of  a  tree  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  in 
diameter  ;  partly  rotten,  but  the  biggest  part 
sound.  The  probability  is,  tliat  botli  the  tree, 
and  the  fiogs  were  once  at  tJic  bottom  of  the 
channel  of  a  river,  or  lake  ;  that  the  waters  of 
Onion  river,  constantly  bringing  down  larf^e 
quantities  of  earth,  gradually  raised  the  bottom  : 
that  b\-  the  constant  increase  of  earth  and  water, 
the  water  was  forced  over  its  bounds,  and  form- 
cd  for  itself  a  new  channel  or  passage,  in  its  de- 
scent into  Lake  Champlain.  How  vigorous  and 
permanent  must  the  principle  of  life  be,  in  this 
animal  !  Frogs  placed  in  a  situation,  in  which 
thc}^  are  perpetually  supplied  with  moisture, 
and  all  waste  and  perspiration  from  the  l)odv 
prevented,  preserve  the  powers  of  life  from  age 
to  age  !  Centuries  may  have  passed  sii\ce  they 
began  to  live,  in  such  a  situation  ;  and  had  that 
situation  continued,  nothing  appears,  but  that 
they  would  have  lived  for  many  centuries  yet 
to  come  !* 

SERPENTS. 

The  Rattle  Snake.     Crotalus  /lort'idu.v. 
Black  Snake,     Coluber  constrictor. 
Green  Snake.     Coluber  saurita. 
Striped  Snake,     jinguis  crijx. 
Water  Adder.     Coluber  faseiatus. 


•  Apptndix  No.  IH. 


I  T| 


HISTORY   or    VLRMONT.       155 

Thf.se  arc  all  ll.e  speric:  ol  ihis  kind  of 
aniir.uJs,  ol  whicli  I  h.ivc  any  ac  ';ii!it  ;  and 
there  a:e  but  idi-jm  to  be  n»ct  '.vkth  in  Ver- 
mont. 

There  is  a  citnoiis  phenomenon  respecting^ 
two  of  th'jsc  species,  wiiith  stems  to  dvservc 
farth'-^r  inquiries.  The  farmers,  and  other  per- 
.■SG'LS  who  frequently  meet  A\'ilh  the  rattle  snake, 
aii(.l  with  the  black  snake,  bcem  univcrsullv  to 
believe  that  each  of  these  animals,  have  a  pow- 
er o'lfihsrinat'um  ;  or  as  it  is  commonly  expres- 
sed, of  cliarnibig  birds,  and  other  small  animals. 
The  account  which  is  generally  given,  is  this  : 
the  snake  lies  stretched  out  his  full  length,  ii\ 
some  open  place  ;  his  head  raised  eight  or  ten 
inches  from  the  ground  ;  his  colours  glow  with 
their  greatest  brightness  ;  his  eyes  play  with  an 
uncommon  brilliancy,  and  fire  ;  and  are  steadi- 
ly fixed  on  the  enchanted  animal.  During  this 
scene,  the  bird  appears  to  be  in  the  greatest  dis- 
tress ;  is  constantly  putting  forth  the  most 
mournful  accents  ;  at  the  same  lime,  is  per- 
furming  a  number  of  irregular  circular  motions ; 
and  at  the  end  of  each,  approaches  nearer  to  the 
snake  :  this  scene  continues,  and  is  hicessantly 
repeated,  until  the  bird,  without  any  power  to 
escape,  comes  within  the  reach  of  the  voracious 
jaws  of  the  serpent,  when  it  is  instantly  seized : 
But  if  the  snake  is  attacked,  or  so  disturbed 
during  the  operation,  that  his  attention  is  turned 
another  w^ay,  the  charm  is  broken  ;  and  the 
bird  recovering  his  liberty,  immediately  flies  off. 
I  have  never  myself  seen  any  thing  like  this  fas- 
cinating scene  ;  but  I  have  had  accounts  exact- 
ly similar  from  more  than  a  dozen  persons, 


if 


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156 


NxVTURAL  AND    CIVIL 


whose  integrity  I  cannot  in  the  smallest  degree 
call  in  quesiici:.  There  is  room,  however,  ibr 
mistakes  in  such  kind  of  observations  ;  and  in 
most  of  thenij  the  snake  was  disturbed,  before 
the  scene  was  finished.  That  there  is  some- 
thing  curious  in  these  appearances,  cannot  he 
doubted.  But  whether  these  snakes  have  such 
powers,  or  by  wh.at  causes  such  events  are  pro- 
duced, seems  to  require  more  accurate  ol)ser- 
vations,  and  a  more  philosophical  investigation.* 

INSECTS. 

TfiE  insects  are  too  minute,  and  numerous, 
to  be  particularly  described.  The  most  com- 
mon are  the  beetle,  grasshopper,  cricket,  butter- 
fly, firefly,  blackily,  moth,  flea,  ant,  musqueto, 
spider,  hornet,  v»'asp,  bumble  bee,  honey  bee, 
various  kinds  of  bugs,  and  several  species  of 
■worms.  Of  these  the  musqueto  is  the  most 
troublesome.  The  weaA-il,  the  Hessian  fly,  and 
the  locust,  are  not  known  in  this  part  of  the 
continent. 

Of  the  bee,  there  Is  a  species  which  is  gen- 
erallv  called  with  us,  the  bmnhlc  bee.  This  is 
indigenous  to  the  country,  and  mucii  larger  than 
the  common  bee.  It  forms  a  nest  upon  the 
ground  ;  ar.d  produces  a  species  of  honey,  in 
transparency,  beauty,  and  sweetness,  fully  equal 
to  that  of  the  honey  bee  ;  but  much  less  in 
quantity.  Whether  the  hone)-  bee  is  a  native 
of  the  country,  seems  to  be  ^  iewed  b}''  some  ar, 
uncertain.  I  do  not  find  much  reason  to  doubt, 
but  that  i'  was  in  America,  before  the  Eurppc- 

•  Appendix  Ko.  IV, 


'!, 


r^ 


J; 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.       157 

.rais  made  their  first  settlements  in  the  country. 
From  the  pictures  and  tribute  rolls  of  the  Mex- 
icans, it  appears  that  the  honey  bee  was  known, 
and  that  honey  was  one  part  of  the  annual  tribute 
which  was  paid  to  their  emperors  before  the  ar- 
rival of  the  Spaniards.      C/avigcro,  in  his  history 
of  Mexico,  confirms  these  accounts  ;  and  men- 
tions six    kinds  of  bees  which  make   honey  ; 
two  of  which  have  stings,  and  one  in  all  respects 
af^rces  with  the  honey  bee  of  P'.urope.     A  spe- 
cies of  the  honey  bee,  but  without  stints,  was 
found  in  Chiapa,  and  Yucatan      The  same  ac- 
cording to  Margrave,  was  fou  id  in  Brasil.     In 
1 540,  among  tlie  provisions  of  the  natives  of 
Florida,  "  a  pot  full  of  Ipnie  of  bees,"  was  found 
l)v  Soto.     From  these  accounts,  it  is  not  to  be 
doubted,  but  that  the  honey  bee  was  indigenous, 
and  had  spread  over  the  empire  of  Mexico. 
To  the  east,  it  had  advanced  as  far  as  Florida  ; 
And  to  the  south,  to  Yucatan,   and  the  country 
of  Brasil.     To  an  immense  country,  then,  the 
honey  bee  was  indigenous,  and  common.  There 
was  no  cause  in  the  nature  of  the  animal,  or  of 
the  climate,  to  pre\  ent  their  spreading  to  the 
northward.     They  live  in  the  hollow  trees  in 
the  woods  of  Vermont,  from  year  to  year  ;  and 
are  always  found  of  their  full  dimensions,  vig- 
orous, and  plentifully  supplied  with  honey  ;  and 
they  bear  the  cold  of  our  winters,  much  better 
in  the  hollow  of  a  large  tfee,  than  in  any  of  our 
artificial  bee  hives.     They  live  and  abound  in 
Russia,  where  the  climate  is  much  more  severe, 
tlian  it  is  in  this  part  of  America  :  They  would 
therefore  naturally  extend,  and  spread  along  the 
country,  Avhere  they  could  find  the  means  of 

VOL.    I.  U 


\    ■  ■' 


\ 


ii 


i 


■\v 


.il 


1! 


I 

I 


I      \' 


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Mi 


li 


If 


158 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


1'^ '  ':  i, 


,t     >u 


subsistence,  and  a  climate  not  unsuited  to  their 
support.  It  has  always  been  found  far  beyond 
the  English  settlements.  From  our  earliest  ac- 
quaintance with  Lake  Champlain,  it  was  to  be 
found  in  the  open  lands,  along  those  shores,  at 
the  distance  of  an  hundred  miles  from  the  Eng- 
lish  or  French  settlements  ;  and  long  before 
tliose  settlements  had  begun  to  attend  to  the 
cultivation  of  this  animal  :  And  from  the  ftrst 
settlement  of  New  England,  hunting  for  theif 
nests  has  been  a  favourite  and  profitable  amuse- 
ment. But  as  llie  chief  food  of  the  bee  is  from 
the  blossoms  and  flowers  of  plants,  it  does  not 
multiply  so  fast  in  the  uncultivated  parts  of  the 
country,  as  where  the  improvements  of  agricul- 
ture and  gardening,  are  constantly  producing  a 
greater  variety,  and  number  of  vegetables. 

To  the  tribes  of  reptiles  and  insects,  ^ve  have 
affixed  the  idea  of  something,  unpleasant,  diminu- 
tive, or  odious.  The  designs,  the  wisdom,  and 
the  power  of  the  Creator,  are  not  to  be  estima- 
ted by  such  feelings,  fears,  and  prejudices. 
The  reptile,  the  insect,  the  lish,  the  bird,  and 
the  quadruped,  one  as  much  as  the  other,  de- 
note wisdom,  power,  and  design,  in  the  author 
of  nature  :  And  they  are  alike  evidences,  and 
instances,  of  the  power  of  animated  nature,  in 
the  different  parts  of  the  earth.  We  may  there- 
fore as  justly  and  clearly  deduce  the  energy,  and 
force  of  animated  nature  in  any  country,  from 
the  number  and  magnitude  of  the  insects,  as 
from  the  species  and  dimensions  of  any  other 
animals.  The  European  philosophers  have 
dwelt  with  wonder  and  astonishment,  on  the 
numbers  and  size  of  these  animals  in  America, 


■7 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        15Q 

The  facts  are  justly  stated,  in  several  of  their 
accounts  ;  and  they  ought  to  have  concluded 
from  them,  that  the  soil  was  uncommonly  rich, 
fertile,  and  luxuriant.  Anxious  to  find  marks 
of  degradation  in  America,  they  have  almost 
universally  advanced  a  contrary  conclusion  : 
that  this  prolific  power  of  nature,  denoted  an 
uncommon  corruption,  and  degradation  of  cli- 
mate. No  conclusion  was  ever  further  from 
the  truth,  or  more  remote  from  probability.  It 
is  only  a  rich  soil,  and  a  temperate  climate, 
which  can  produce  what  they  call  a  rank  vegeta- 
tion, or  numerous  reptiles  and  insects,  of  the 
largest  size. 

From  this  imperfect  view  of  our  quadrupeds, 
birds,  fishes,  and  insects,  instead  of  finding  na- 
ture but  weak  and  f>;eble  in  America,  as  M.  de 
Buflbn  has  supposed  ;*  her  animals  appear  to 
be  marked  with  an  energy,  and  a  magnitude, 
superior  to  what  is  found  in  Europe  ;  and 
equalled  only,  by  the  magnificent  and  vigorous 
productions  of  Asia. 

*  "  La  nature   vivante  est  heaucoup  moini  agistante  bcavisouji 
moint  forte."    Hist.  Nat.  xviH.  izi,  a4it.  Paris,  1764. 


ill 


ii       1 


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./,       ,,; 


160  NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


CHAPTER   VIL 

O  R I G  iTv  A  r.  Inhabitant  s  .  77i  r  Emp  lay  men  fs, 
Civil  Government^  System  of  JTaj-,  Edueation^ 
J\ fanners,  and  Customs  of  the  Indians  ;  t/ir 
Advantages,  and  Dimdvantages  of  the  Savage 
State, 

IN  tlic  formation  of  the  mnimtains,  riv- 
ers, vej^e tables,  and  auinuils,  the  poucrs  of  na. 
ture  appear  to  rise  in  a  steady  and  beautiful 
progress.  This  progress  seems  to  be  eomplc- 
ted  in  the  production  of  a  ratjonal,  moral,  and 
aeeountable  animal.  This  animal  is  Man: 
And  he  evident!}'  appears  in  ever}  part  of  the 
globe,  to  be  at  the  head  of  all  the  productions  of 
nature  :  But  the  men  of  difterent  countries  aiul 
nations,  appear  to  be  very  difl'ercnt  from  one 
another. 

The  ori<j;lnal  inhabitants  of  this  eountrv  were 
tlie  l.'idians  :  These  ^\ere  the  onl}'  species  or 
kind  of  men,  that  had  spread  over  America.  It 
wiil  l)C  more  diilicult  to  gi\e  a  just  account  of 
the  man  of  America^  than  to  describe  its  veget 
al)les,  and  animals.  The  latter  are  subject  to 
vStated,  and  invariable  laws  ;  they  pass  through 
but  {{:i\\  changes  and  variations,  and  are  alwa}s 
to  be  found  in  that  state,  in  which  nature  placed 
them.  ?»fan  is  subject  to  a  great  Aaricty  of  al- 
teration, and  improvciuent.  In  his  rudest  and 
most  simple  state,  lie  api}ears  but  little  superior 
to  the  brute  ;  in  his  highest  improvement  and 
polish  of  manners,  he  a])pears  at  an  infinite  re  • 
l^iovc   from  the    bare  animal  ;    and  in  all  the 


i? 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.         161 

staples  of  his  progress  from  the  one  state  to  tliG 
other,  he  passes  throiii^h  an  endless  variety  of 
situations  and  circiimstanecs,  whieh  are  eon- 
stantly  giving  a  new  ajjpearance  to  his  capaeity, 
powers,  passions,  manners,  and  pursuits.  The 
jiatural  history  of  man  is  tlierefore  the  most  dif- 
ficult, but  it  is  also  the  most  useful  and  impor- 
tant subject  we  can  contemplate.  In  examin- 
ing the  liistory  of  the  Indian  of  America,  ^^■e 
shall  find  man  in  the  most  simple,  rude,  and 
unimproved  state,  in  which  he  has  ever  been 
placed,  or  viewed.* 

Appearance  and  Countenance..  The 
appearance  of  the  Indians  was  different  from  any, 
under  which  man  had  ever  been  viewed  before. 
The  colour  of  their  skin  is  of  a  reddish  brown, 
nearly  resembling  the  colour  of  copper,  but 
rathe/  darker.  Their  faces  are  broad,  the  nose 
iippears  flattish,  their  eyes  black,  small,  and  ve- 
ry active.  The  hair  of  their  licads  is  always 
black,  coarse,  long,  and  perfectly  straight  ;  and 
they  generally  appear  without  any  beard.  The 
men  arc  taller  than  the  EurojDcans,  but  rarely 
corpulent  ;  and  their  bodies  appear  to  be  firm, 
strong,  and  well  proportioned.  Their  features 
are  regular  and  well  adjusted,  but  their  coun- 
tenance discovers  something  nild,  fierce,  and 
.sullen.  In  one  of  them  are  seen  crooked,  mu- 
tilated, or  deformed  ;  defective  in  any  of  their 
senses,  ordeticicnt  in  any  of  their  bodily  organs  ; 
but  straight,  well  built,  and  robust.     In  die  ap- 

♦  THE  following  account  rchtcs  chiefly  to  the  Indians  in  the  nor- 
thern parts  ot  America.  1  have  rcccivctilnucti  assistance  from  the  wri- 
tings of  Dr.  Robertson,  and  other  authors.  But  the  authorities  on  which 
the  accounts  are  founded,  are  chiefly  the  relations  of  those  persons  who 
b-vc  lived  among  tbc  indianii,  .ind  been  intimately  acquainted  with  them. 


t 


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t     f[  ■  ■*  '    1- 


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NATURAL    AND  CIVIL 


peafance,  aspect,  and  countenance  of  the  Indi 
ans,  there  is  an  uncommon  uniformity,  and  re 
fccmblance.  It  is  the  same  in  all  climates,  and 
in  all  the  tribes  of  America.  It  does  not  vary 
with  heat,  cold,  situation,  employment,  or  other 
circumstances  ;  but  the  Indinn  countenance  has 
the  same  combination  of  features,  and  pcculiari- 
ty  of  aspect,  in  every  part  of  America. 

Employment,    and    Method    of    Pro- 
CLT RING  Subsistence.     The  food  proper  for 
man,  is  to  !)<:;  found  in  every  part  of  the  earth. 
But  the  means  and  the  method  of  procuring  it, 
are  dlflcrent  amonc;  diifevenl  imtions,  and  m  dif- 
ferent stnp'cs  of  society.     Tlie  I'jiiviiLics  of  Nordi 
America  had  discoveic d  the  properties  and  ef- 
fects of  those  seeds,   berries,  and  roots,    which 
the   earth    spontaneously    produces  ;     and  one 
,  part  of  their  food  was  derived  from  this  soiu'ce. 
Fishing  was  aiiotlicr  method  which  they  used 
to  procure   subsistence.     The  great  plenty  and 
variety  oi"  fish,  with  which  the  rivers  of  Ameri- 
ca abounded,  rendered   this  kind  of  provision 
easy  to  be  })rocured,   and  •^f  great  use.     The 
Indian  had  acquired  much  skill  and  address,   in 
his  method  oi'  catching  the  fish  ;  and  he   was 
accustoined  to  dry,  and  smoke  them,  in  order 
to  preserve  them.     The  falls  of  rivers  were  the 
places,  to  which  they    most  resorted  for  this 
purpose  :   And  most  of  these  falls  were  tlie  pla- 
ces, where  some  of  their  tribes  or  small  compa- 
nies resided  :   A  i  i  they  were  generally  distin- 
guished by  some  partici;;  r  Indian  name.     A 
more  genera;  and  eftcctual  method  of  support, 
was  hunting.     The  fruits  which  the  earth  spon- 
taneously produced,  were  but  few,  and  of  siiort 


1 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


163 


continuance.  A  few  tribes  cnly  coiild  l)e  nc- 
t.'ommoduted,  by  the  vicinity  and  conveireiicc 
of  a  river  :  But  game  \vj6  cvc-y  \viierc  lo  be 
found.  The  bear,  the  deer,  the  beaver,  the  iox, 
and  other  aninrxals,  Avere  in  great  numbers,  and 
ill  every  part  of  the  northern  continent.  From 
these,  the  Indian  derived  his  most  sure,  and 
plentiful  support.  But  this  method  of  procur- 
iiifi:;  food,  rccjuired  great  efforts  of  invention,  and 
activity.  The  strength,  the  fierceness,  and  the 
swiftness  of  the  wild  animals,  the  feebleness  of 
the  weapons,  the  bov.-,  arroAV,  and  club,  with 
which  the  savage  attacked  thein,  joined  to  make 
the  business  of  the  hunter  laborious  and  ditii- 
ciilt  ;  and  called  forth  all  the  active  powers  of 
the  savage.  And  here,  he  appeared  to  the 
greatest  advantage  ;  fertile  in  invention,  saga- 
cious in  distinguisliing  and  observing,  nice  and 
accurate  in  tracing  the  animal  ;  indefatigable, 
and  persevering  in  the  pursuit.  An  employ- 
ment which  thus  gave  exertion  to  all  the  inven- 
tion, courage,  force,  and  vigor  of  the  man,  nat- 
urally became  the  most  honourable  employment ; 
And  the  most  dexterous  hunter  became  the 
most  distinsruished  savaL'*e  of  the  tribe.  To 
these  methods  of  procuring  food,  were  added 
some  feeble  attempts  in  agriculture.  Indian 
corn,  beans,  pompions,  and  squashes,  were  tlic 
only  plants  tliey  cultivated.  The  culture  of 
these  was  wholly  in  the  har.ds  of  the  women. 
Without  the  use  and  knowledge  of  any  of  the 
domestic  animals,  altogetlier  destitute  of  the 
proper  instruments  of  husbandry,  their  efforts 
uerc  weak  and  languid  ;  and  the  supplies  they 
derived  this  way,  were  but  bmall. 


<< 


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NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


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These  were  all  the  methods  of  procunnj^ 
food,  with  which  the  Indians  were  acquainted. 
They  afforded  them  but  a  scanty  and  precarious 
support.  When  the  game  was  plenty,  and  the 
hunter  successful,  thev  had  an  abundance  of 
food.  Wlien  tlie  season  of  the  year  was  unfa- 
vourable, and  their  success  but  small,  tlicv 
■were  reduced  to  scarcitv  and  want.  Their  suf. 
feringsthis  way,  were  sometimes  extremely  se- 
vere. And  there  was  no  year,  in  which  they 
were  not  subject  to  these  extremes,  of  great 
plenty,  and  severe  famine. 

The  appetite  of  the  Indian  conformed  to  this 
state  of  things.  In  the  seasons  of  plenty,  the 
savage  indulged  himself  to  great  excess  :  In  the 
time  of  famine,  the  Indian  bore  his  hunger  with 
astonishing  patience,  and  firmness.  So  aeciis 
tomed  was  he  to  this  irregular  method  of  lining, 
that  excess  and  famine  were  equally  familiar  to 
him  ;  and  his  constitution  and  health  remained 
firm  and  vigorous,  under  the  extremes  of  both. 

From  this  situation  and  employment  of  the 
Indian,  all  the  regulations^  customs^  advafifai^'cs, 
and  disadvantages  of  the  savage  state,  were  de- 
rived. 

Society.  When  any  considerable  number 
of  the  human  race  subsist  near  each  other,  they 
will  always  combine  in  some  form  of  societx . 
Mutual  wants,  dangers,  dependencies,  interests, 
and  benefits,  operating  w^ith  the  appetite  man 
has  for  society,  will  not  fail  to  produce  this  ef- 
fect. The  situation  and  employment  of  the  In- 
dians, determined  what  the  nature  and  extent 
of  this  society  must  be,  among  them.      The 


chief  source  of  subsistence 


among 


them,   was 


■»   ' 


Is 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.       1G5 

hunting.     On  this  account,  a  large  territory  be- 
came necessary  for  the  ..apport  of  a  small  num- 
ber of  people.     Like  the  game  on  which  they 
lubsist,  they   must  be  dibperjxd  over  a  large 
tract  uf  country,  or  they  cannot  j^ocure  food. 
In  this   stage  of  society,  the  extent  of  it  is  de- 
rived from  its  situation.     Its  territory  must  be 
large,  the  number  of  people  will  be  small,  and 
all  hostile  tribes  must  be  kept  at  such  a  distance, 
as  not  to  encroach  upon  the  territory   or  the 
game.     This  was  the  state,  in  which  the  sava- 
ges were  found.     Divided  into  a  number  of 
txibes,  small  in  the  number  of  people,  large  in 
the  extent  of  territory,  and  generally  unfriendly 
and  hostile  to  each  other. 

Nature  of  their  Civil  Government. 
From  this  state  of  society,  arose  a  species  and 
form  of  government  peculiar  to  the  Indians. 
The  design  and  object  of  government  among  the 
savagGs,  was  not  the  property,  security,  or  con- 
duct of  the  individual  ;  but  the  property  and 
safety  of  the  tribe.  The  idea  of  property  is 
suggested  by  nature  ;  and  was  clear,  distinct, 
and  just,  in  the  mind  of  the  rudest  Indian.  The 
fish  in  the  river,  and  the  game  in  the  forest, 
were  not  the  product  of  his  care  or  labour  ;  and 
he  had  no  idea  that  they  belonged  to  him,  more 
than  to  any  other  individual.  But  when  they 
were  acquired  by  Itis  personal  exertion,  no  oth- 
er savage  doubted  but  that  they  were  become 
his  particular  and  exclusive  property.  The 
river,  or  the  forest,  from  which  they  w^ere  ta- 
ken, were  not  personal  but  public  property  : 
they  belonged  to  the  tribe.  No  individual 
claimed  a  right  to  them,  in  preference  to,  or 
VOL.    X.  W 


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J  66        NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 

exclusive  of  others.  These  were  the  property 
of  the  tribe,  belonging  equally  to  all,  and  to 
which  all  had  a  right  to  repair  in  quest  of  sub- 
sistence, aiid  had  an  equal  and  common  privilege. 
When  the  Wlian  builded  his  house,  o^  planted 
his  corn,  no  one  had  a  right  to  molest  him  ; 
the  house  and  the  corn  became  his.  When  he 
relinquished  his  possession,  any  other  of  th: 
tribe  had  a  right  to  take  possession,  and  pursu ". 
the  same  employment  that  he  had  done.  The 
fruits  of  their  ovv'n  labour  and  industry,  was  al- 
ways  the  property  of  the  individual  :  The  riv- 
er, the  forest,  the  hunting  ground,  the  land  or 
the  territory,  was  the  property  of  the  tribe. 
The  former  was  of  so  simple  a  nature,  so  well 
understood,  and  So  universally  agreed  to,  that 
few  controversies  could  ever  arise  about  it ; 
common  custom  and  consent  v/as  sufficient  to 
adjust  and  regulate  every  thing  of  this  nature. 
The  latter  contained  all  the  property,  the  mean* 
of  subsistence,  and  that  on  which  the  whole 
tribe  depended  for  their  existence.  This  was 
the  great  object  and  aim  of  their  government  ; 
to  protect  and  defend  that,  on  which  the  whole 
tribe  subsisted.  In  such  a  state  of  society,  the 
injuries  that  would  be  done  to  individuals  \A'ould 
not  be  many  in  their  number,  or  often  of  such 
a  kind,  as  to  endanger  the  existence  or  sover- 
eignty of  the  tribe.  The  rright  of  redressing 
them,  was  therefore  left  in  J^rivatc  hands.  This 
has  always  been  the  case,  in  the  infancy  of  so- 
ciety and  government.  If  injuries  were  done, 
if  blood  was  shed,  it  belonged  to  the  friends  and 
family  of  the  injured  person  to  seek  redress.  If 
the  chiefs  interposed,  it  was  only  by  way  of 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      1C7 

counncl  and  advice.  The  friends  of  tlic  injur- 
ed ])er.sou  might  accept  of  their  advice,  or  of 
the  reparation  offered  by  the  agj^ressor,  or  they 
niij^ht  reject  it  :  If  it  was  accepted,  all  was  set- 
tied  in  a  quiet  and  friendly  manner  :  If  rejected, 
no'hing  remained  but  to  pursue  the  aggressor 
uitii  a  revenge  and  rage,  that  aimed  at  nothing 
less  Mvm  destruction  and  death. 

The  form  and  manner  of  the  Indian  govcrn- 
jncnt,  iviis  the  most  simple  that  can  be  conti'iv- 
ed,  or  imagined.  There  was  no  king,  nobility, 
lords,  or  house  of  representative: ,  nong  them. 
The  whole  tribe  assembled  tog<"  in  their 

public  councils.  Destitute  of  wriuags,  records, 
and  history,  to  preserve  the  memory  of  their 
public  transactions  ;  their  most  aged  men  be- 
came the  depositories,  of  what  had  been  gathered 
from  experience,  observation,  and  a  knowledge 
of  their  former  transactions.  It  is  by  them  that 
the  debates  and  consultations  are  chiefly  carried 
on.  Their  councils  are  slow,  solemn,  and  de- 
liberate. Every  circumstance  that  they  can 
foresee,  is  taken  into  consideration.  The  prob- 
able advantages  and  disadvantages  of  every 
measure,  are  examined  and  weighed.  All  the 
prospects  of  success  and  disappointment,  arc 
revolved  in  their  debates  ;  and  nothing  is  omit- 
ted, v/hich  occurs  to  their  views  or  expectations. 
The  whole  business  is  a  scene  of  consultation, 
and  advice.  And  the  advice  has  no  other  force 
or  authority,  than  what  is  derived  from  its  sup- 
posed wisdom,  fitness,  and  propriety. 

The  strength  m\d  p07ver  of  the  government, 
is  placed  wholly  in  the  public  sentiment.  The 
chief  has  no  authority  to  enforce  his  counsels^ 


U 


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Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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or  compel  to  his  measures.  He  13  fed  and 
clotl\€d  like  the  rest  of  tiie  tribe.  Kis  house 
and  furniture  are  the  same  as  those  of  others. 
There  is  no  appearance,  or  mark  of  distinction  r 
No  ceremony,  or  form  of  induction  into  office  : 
No  ensigns  or  tokens  of  superiority,  or  power. 
In  every  external  circumstance,  the  chiefs  are 
upon  a  level  with  the  rest  of  the  tribe  :  And 
tliat  only  w^hich  gives  weight  and  authority  to 
their  advice,  is  the  public  opinion  of  their  su- 
perior nisdom  and  experience.  Their  laws 
stand  on  the  same  foundation.  There  was  no 
written  law,  record,  or  rule  of  conduct.  No 
public  precedent,  establislied  courts,  forms  or 
modes  of  proceeding.  The  causes  and  occa- 
sions of  contention  were  so  few,  that  they  did 
not  much  aft'cct  the  tribe.  And  wlicn  the  chiefs 
interposed  in  the  concerns  of  individuals,  it  was 
not  to  compel,  but  only  to  counsel  and  advise 
tJiem.  The  public  opinion  pointed  out  what 
was  right,  fit,  and  proper  to  be  esteemed  laws 
and  rules  of  conduct.  These  rules  or  laws  de- 
rived from  nature,  were  seldom  wrong,  obscure, 
or  inconsistent  ;  but  generally  plain,  clear,  and 
useful.  Their  penalties  and  punishments  were 
derived  from  the  same  source.  Loss  of  char- 
acter, and  reputation,  disgrace,  exclusion  from 
the  tribe,  and  death,  were  the  punishments  to 
which  offenders  were  exposed,  according  to  the 
nature  und  aggravation  of  their  ciimeti.  These 
punishments  were  not  described,  iind  as:  igned 
to  a  particular  crime  by  a  w'ritten  law^ ;  l)ut  they 
rested  upon  the  public  opinion  of  the  tribe,  and 
derived  great  force  and  ponder  from  it.  Ar  of 
feud^r  wjio  h^d  been  gveatly  ?jid  deej)ly  i^uiltj-. 


HISTORY  or  VERMONT.       IC^ 

fled  from  the  tribe,  as  the  only  way  to  safety, 
peace,  and  rest. 

There  was  a  Jitness  and  propriety  in  this 
p;overnTTient,  or  rather,  it  was  fully  adeqiu 'c  to 
i\s  end  and  design,  and  to  the  situation  and  :ilate 
oi  tlie  savage.  A  modern  statesman  would 
sriiiic  at  this  idea  of  Indian  government  :  And 
because  he  could  find  no  written  constitution, 
or  bill  of  rights,  no  mutual  ehc  cks,  and  balan- 
ces, ac'.-ountability  and  responsibility,  pronounce 
it  weak,  foolish,  and  contemptible.  But  it  was 
evidently  derived  from  the  dictates  of  nature, 
and  well  adapted  to  the  state  and  situation  of 
the  savage.  The  idea  of  property  was  so  plain 
and  clear,  and  the  objects  to  which  it  related 
were  so  few  and  simple,  that  there  was  no  need 
of  a  code  of  laws  to  describe  and  define  it. 
The  rights  of  the  individual,  his  freedom  and 
liberty,  were  so  strongly  felt,  and  so  universally 
acknowledged,  that  no  person  dared  to  invade 
them.  The  crimes  of  the  vicious  received  a 
just  and  a  full  punishment,  in  the  disgrace,  con-- 
tenipt,  and  danger,  they  brought  upon  the  guil- 
ty. I'he  individual  had  all  the  security,  in  the 
public  sentiment,  custom,  and  habit,  that  gov- 
ernivient  can  any  where  afibrd  him.  All  that 
was  to  be  defended  was  the  territory  ;  the  in- 
terest, the  independence,  and  sovereignty  of  the 
tribe  ;  and  every  part  of  the  government  was 
adapted  and  designed  to  form,  to  animate,  and 
to  infiiime,  a  nahunal  spiiit  of  vigour  and  inde- 
pendence. 

Ac  REE  ALLY  +n  l<s  Tkature  and  design,  the 
tendency  and  (rjjcct  of  the  savage  go\eri<mcnt, 
v/as  equality,  iittclom,  and  independence,  among 


ii 


(  ■ 

'    I !. .11 


ii: 


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.  I -5 
"''      I: 


\-\\ 


<      M 


I     l«. 


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It 


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1 1 


170 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


'.  1 ,1 


■"!-l 

■ill     .iii! 


(■S 


11  ■  Jl] 


i: 


all  the  members  of  the  tribe.  In  respect  to 
rights  and  privileges,  the  saviij^e  knew  no  siipc- 
rior.  Of  abasement,  humiliation,  dependence, 
or  servitude,  he  had  no  idea.  Depending  on 
his  own  exertions  for  food  and  raiment,  he  had 
never  looked  to  another  for  assistance,  promo, 
tion,  or  wealth.  When  the  interest  of  the  tribe 
was  in  question,  or  in  danger,  the  wisdom  and 
experience  of  years  was  consulted,  to  advise  and 
determine  :  And  their  counsels  became  matters 
of  great  respect.  But  constraint,  compulsion, 
and  force,  was  the  object  of  the  highest  detesta- 
tion and  horror.  Every  measure  of  the  gov- 
crnment  tended  to  confirm  and  increase  the 
spirit  of  freedom,  equality,  and  independence, 
and  to  render  it  strong,  fierce,  and  permanent, 
through  the  whole  tribe. 

System  of  War  among  the  Indians. 
The  civil  regulations  of  the  savages  were  all 
designed  to  qualify  and  prepare  them  for  war. 
Among  the  causes  that  lead  to  this,  an  opposi- 
tion of  interests,  was  the  most  common  and 
powerful.  No  people  ever  had  more  clear,  or 
more  just  ideas  of  their  own  rights  and  proper- 
ty, than  tkc  Indians.  They  not  only  understood 
thtir  own  personal  rights,  but  they  were  per- 
fectly well  acquainted  with  the  rights  and  pro- 
perty, tkat  were  vested  in  the  tribe.  Each  tribe 
claimed  the  soil  in  their  own  domains.  Thir» 
right  was  viewed  as  eomplete>  perfect,  and  cx> 
elusive  :  Such  as  entitled  them  to  the  full  and 
entiic  possession  ;  and  to  oppose  by  force  and 
violence,  all  encroachments  upon  the  soil,  or 
game,  in  ai^y  part  of  their  territories.  The 
founds  ot  these  territories  were  extensive,  and 


i^! 


.1:1 


i  :!.!.(: 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        I7i 

ill  defined.  Real  or  supposed  encroachments 
and  injuries,  were  constantly  taking  place. 
Hence  arose  innumerable  subjects  of  dispute 
and  controversy,  which  easily  inflamed  the 
fierceness  of  the  savage  temper,  and  brought  on 
muiu.'.i  injuries,  reproaches,  hostilities,  and  war- 
I:;  ;i;i:i  state,  most  of  the  Indian  tribes  were 
iOand.  Interest  had  become  a  source  of  dis- 
cord, among  the  neighbouring  tribes.  From 
this  cause,  arose  most  of  their  inveterate  and 
perpetual  wars. 

The  manner  in  which  the  Indians  carry  on 
their  wars,  is  very  different  from  that  pf  civili- 
zed nations.  To  defend  themselves  against  an 
enemy,  they  have  no  other  fortification  but  an 
irregular  kind  of  fortress,  which  they  call  a  cas-^ 
tic  or  fort.  It  consisted  of  a  square  without 
bastions,  surrounded  with  pallasadoes.  This 
was  erected  where  the  most  considerable  num- 
ber of  the  tribe  resided,  and  was  designed  as  an 
asylum  for  their  old  men,  their  women,  and 
children,  while  the  rest  of  the  tribe  were  gone 
out  to  war.  The  weapons  of  the  Indian  were  a 
club  made  of  hard  wood,  a  bow  and  arrow. 
Thus  armed,  the  Indian  takes  with  him  a  small 
bag  of  corn,  and  is  completely  equipped  for  a 
campaign.  When  he  takes  the  field,  it  is  with 
such  a  number  of  warriors  as  the  tribe  can  sup- 
ply. During  their  march,  they  arc  dispersed 
in  straggling  companies,  that  they  may  better 
supply  thdmselves  by  hunting.  When  they 
approach  near  to  the  enemies'  frontiers,  their 
troops  are  m©re  collected  :  All  is  then  caution, 
&tratagem,  secrecy,  and  ambuscade.  Their 
employment  as  hunters  has  taught  them  great 


i\ 


i{ 


f'     ft 


■111 


:S 


M      f 


V: 


'  il 


!    vr 


i'l 


.     5 


,H  .;  0 


172 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


1 1 


I  . 


}'' 


il>-^i^ 


address  and  vigilance^  in  following  and  sui'prj- 
mio;   the    game.     Their  mode    of  war    is  tlic 
same,  as  that  of  hunting.     With  great  ingcnui 
ty,  they  will  find  and  follow  the  track  of  their 
enemies  :   With  a  surprising  patience   and  per- 
severance,  tbey  w^ill  wait  for  the  moinciit,  wiicn 
they  find  him  the  least  able  to  defend  himself. 
And  when  they  can  find  an  enemy  unprepared, 
they  make  their  attack  ^vith  great  finy,  and  v/ith 
pretty  sure  success.     In  their  battles  they  al- 
ways  endeavour  to  secure  themselves   behind 
the  trees  .or  rocks,  and  never  meet  their  cneni'/ 
in  the  open  field,  or  upon  equal  terms,  if  they 
can  avoid  it.     The  method  of  the   Europeans, 
of  deciding  a  battle  in  the  open   field,  they  re- 
gard as  extreme  folly  and  want   of  prudence. 
Their  established  maxims  are  to  obtain  a  supe- 
riority in  situation,  numbers,  concealment,  or 
some  other  circumstance  before  the  battle  :  In 
this  way,  to  preserve  the  lives  of  their  own  par- 
ty, and  dtfstroy  their  enemies,  with  as  little  loss 
as  possible  to  themselves.     A  victory  obtained 
with  the  loss  of  many  of  their  own  party,  is  a 
matter  of  grief  and  disgrace,  rather  than  of  exul- 
tation :  And  it  is  no  honour  to  fall  in  the  field 
of  battle,  but  viewed  rather  as  an  evidence   of 
want  of  wisdom,  discernment,  and  circumspec- 
tion.    When  the  attack  is  to  be  made,  nothing 
can  exceed  the  courage  and  impetuosity  of  the 
savage.     The  onset  begins  with  a  general  out- 
cry, terminating  in  a  universal  yell.     Of  all  the 
sounds  that  discord  has  produced,  the   Indian 
war  whoop  is  the  most  awful  and  horrid.     It  is 
designed  and  adapted  to  iilcrease  the  ardor  of 
those  who  make  the  attack,  and  to  carry  terror 


ill 


'HI 


•>    i'"  .\ 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.       173 

and  horror  into  tlie  feclini^s  of  tliose,  on  whom 
the  attack  is  made.  The  Indians  immediately 
come  Ibrvv^ard,  and  begin  the  scene  of  outrage 
and  death.  All  is  then  a  scene  of  fury,  impetu- 
osity, and  vengeance.  So  great  is  the  rage  of 
the  savage,  that  he  has  no  regard  to  discipline, 
subordination,  and  order.  Revenge,  takes  an 
entire  possession  of  his  soul  :  Forgetful  of  all 
order,  regardless  of  discipline  and  danger,  he 
aims  only  to  butcher  and  destroy.  If  the  In* 
d^ans  remain  masters  of  the  field,  they  always 
strip  and  scalp  the  dead.  Leaving  the  bodies  of 
tlicir  enemies,  naked,  unburied,  and  often  man- 
gled, they  carry  off  the  plunder  and  scalps  ;  and 
make  a  very  swift  and  sudden  retreat.  Upon 
their  approach  to  their  own  tribe,  a  herald  is 
sent  forward  to  announce  the  event  :  the  tribe 
is  collected,  and  the  conquerors  make  their  en* 
try  with  their  ensigns  of  triumph  :  the  scalps 
stretched  upon  a  bow,  and  elevated  upon  a  pole, 
arc  carried  before  them,  as  the  tokens  of  their 
valour  and  success,  and  monuments  of  the  ven- 
geance they  have  inflicted  upon  the  enemies  of 
their  country. 

The  prisoners  %vhich  they  have  taken,  make 
an  important  part  of  their  triumph.  The  sava- 
ges are  anxious  to  take  as  many  of  these  as  pos- 
sible. During  their  march,  they  are  generally 
treated  with  a  degree  of  humanity  and  kindness ; 
but  the  greatest  care  is  taken  to  prevent  their 
escape.  When  they  arrive  at  the  place  of  their 
destination,  the  old  men,  women,  and  children 
of  the  Indian  tribe,  form  themselves  into  two 
lines,  through  which  the  prisoners  must  run  the 
gantlet  to  the  village.     If  the  prisoner  is  young; 

VOL,    I.  X 


If 


1 1 


I) 


!l: 


I. 


)  ,      It ' 


t ' 


'if    P 


il  I. 


I  ■  ' 


II 


;,l 


r  r^ 


i4  > 


•I 


•        i. 


':•'/>'-'    H 


I  :  r 


;  'I 


.•H 


I!       ■       :  I    I       . 


i.\ 


174 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


active,  and  a  good  runner,  he  makes  his  vay 
through  the  lines  without  receiving  much  inju 
ry.  If  he  is  weak,  old,  and  infirm,  he  receives 
much  damage  by  the  blows,  stripes,  and  bruises, 
he  receives.  When  this  scene  is  finished,  the 
prisoners  arc  conducted  to  the  village,  treated 
with  apparent  good  humour,  and  fed  as  well  as 
the  Indians'  fare  admits. 

To  the  village  thus  assembled,  the  head  war- 
rior of  the  party  relates  every  particular  of  the 
expedition.  When  he  mentions  their  losses,  a 
bitter  grief  and  sorrow  appears  in  the  whole  as- 
sembly.  When  he  pronounces  the  names  of 
the  dead,  their  wives,  relations,  and  friends,  put 
forth  the  most  bitter  shrieks,  and  cries.  But 
no  one  asks  any  question,  or  interrupts  the 
speaker  with  any  inquiry.  The  last  ceremony 
hi  to  proclaim  the  victory.  Every  individual 
forgets  his  own  loss  and  misfortune,  and  joins 
in  the  triumph  of  his  nation*  Their  tears  cease, 
and  with  one  of  the  most  unaccountable  transi- 
tioiis  in  human  nature,  they  pass  at  once  from 
the  bitterness  of  sorrow  to  all  the  extravagance 
of  joy.  The  whole  concludes  with  a  savage 
feast,  songs,  and  dance. 

The  fate  of  the  prisoners  is  next  to  be  deci- 
ded. The  elders  and  chiefs  assemble  and  de- 
liberate concerning  their  destiny*  The  women 
and  children  are  disposed  of,  according  to  the 
pleasure  of  their  captors  ;  but  they  are  seldom 
or  never  ptit  to  torture,  or  death.  Of  the  men 
some  are  appointed  to  supply  the  places  of  such 
Indians  as  have  fallen  in  battle.  These  are  de- 
livered to  their  friends  and  relations,  and  if 
they  are  received  by  them,  they  have  no  iiuf- 


:) 


01 


11 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      175 

ferings  to  fear  :  they  are  adopted  into  the  fami- 
ly, and  succeed  to  all  tlie  privileges  of  the  de- 
ceased ;  and  are  esteemed  as  friends,  brothers, 
and  near  relations.  But  if  they  are  not  recei\ed 
and  admitted  into  the  family,  or  if  they  are  des- 
tined to  be  put  to  death,  a  most  distressing  and 
horrid  scene  ensues. 

A  stake  is  fixed  firmly  in  the  ground.  At 
the  distance  of  eight  or  ten  feet,  dry  wood, 
leaves,  and  faggots,  are  placed  in  a  circle  round 
the  stake  :  And  the  whole  village  is  collected, 
to  bear  their  part  in  the  tragedy,  which  is  to 
ensue.  The  prisoner  is  led  to  the  stake,  and 
tied  to  it  by  his  hands,  in  such  a  manner  that 
he  may  move  freely  round  it.  Fire  is  set  to 
the  wood,  that  as  it  runs  round  the  circle, ^the 
unhappy  victim  may  be  forced  to  run  the  same 
way.  As  the  sufferings  of  the  prisoner  begin 
to  become  severe,  the  acclamations  of  the  spec 
tators  begin.  The  men,  women,  and  children, 
strive  to  exceed  each  other,  in  finding  out  new 
and  keener  methods  of  torment.  Some  apply 
red  hot  irons,  others  stab  and  cut  with  their 
knives,  others  mangle  and  tear  off  the  flesh,  oth- 
ers again  bite  off  the  nails  and  joints,  or  twist 
and  tear  the  sinews.  Evcr^  .  pecies  and  degree 
of  cruelty,  that  savage  rancour  and  revenge  can 
invent  and  apply,  is  tried  upon  the  wretched 
sufferer.  But  great  care  is  taken  that  the  vital 
parts  may  not  be  so  injured,  as  to  bring  the 
torments  of  the  victim  to  a  speedy  end.  In  this 
horrid  situation,  the  sufferer  is  undaunted  and 
intrepid.  He  reviles  and  insults  his  tormentors. 
He  accuses  them  of  co ware  ice,  meanness,  and 
want  of  spirit  ;  as  ignorant,  unskilful,  and  des- 


y} 


'I  I 


VI 


ifh 


I.'        !■ 

t 

I        ,    ■     I 


1   i 


y.\ 


^   i\  \ 


ll 


11  (    I 


*,.  '■ 


i    .H 
Mm 


"i* 


'I 


I 


mmMkmmi^ 


•  •  •" 


*-\ 


}  . 


.1      >     ' 


i' 


•  ^1  rH' 


176 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


titute  of  ingenuity  and  invention  in  the  art  of 
tormenting.  Not  a  groan,  a  sigh,  a  t'jar,  or  a 
sorrowful  look,  is  suffered  to  escape  him.  To 
insult  his  tormentors,  to  display  nndaui\?cd  and 
unalterable  fortitude  in  thib  dreadful  situation  is 
the  most  noble  of  all  the  triumphs  of  the  war- 
rior. With  an  unaltered  countenance,  and  with 
the  decisive  tone  of  dignity  and  superior  ini- 
portance,  the  hero  proceeds  with  great  calm- 
ness to  sing  the  song  of  his  death — "  Intrepid 
and  brave,  I  feel  no  pain,  and  I  fear  no  torture. 
I  have  slain,  I  have  conquered,  I  have  burnt 
mine  enemies  ;  and  my  countryHien  will  avenge 
my  blood.  Ye  are  a  nation  of  dogs,  of  eo\v- 
aids,  and  women.  Ye  know  not  how  to  con- 
quer, to  suffer,  or  to  torture.  Prolong  and  in- 
crease n:y  torments,  that  ye  may  learn  from  my 
example  how  to  suffer  and  behave  like  men  !" 
With  such  unconquerable  magnanimity  and 
fortitude,  the  sufierer  perseveres  under  every 
method  of  torment  and  torture.  Wearied  with 
cruelty,  and  tired  with  tormenting  a  man  ^vhoi3e 
fortitude  they  cannot  move,  one  of  the  chiefs  iu 
a  rage  concludes  the  scene,  by  knocking  the 
prisoner  on  the  head,  or  stabbing  him  to  the 
heart. 

These  scenes  however  were  not  common. 
They  seem  to  have  been  kind  of  honours,  re- 
served  for  the  warriors  ;  and  were  the  trials  of 
their  courage  and  fortitude.  And  nothing  wa;: 
esteemed  more  base  and  ignominious,  than  to 
shrink  from  them,  or  to  shew  any  sense  of  fear 
or  pain  under  them. 

When  the  prisoners  were  adopted  into  the 
tribe  of  the  conquerors,  nothing  could  exceed 


■!  ■■■' 


HISTORY  OF  \'KRi\IONT.         177 

the  kindness  and  aftcction,  with  \\  liich  they  ^vcre 
treiitcd.  AH  distinction  ot'tiibes  was  Ibrgottcn  ; 
thc\  held  the  samt.'  rank  as  the  deceased  jjcrson, 
whose  place  they  lilled  ;  aiul  were  treateil  with 
all  the  tenderness  due  to  the  husband,  tiie 
1)  -nher,  the  child,  or  friend.  And  it  was  gcn- 
t  rally  the  case,  that  the  savages  a\'oidcd  abuse 
and  cruelty  to  the  women  and  children,  that  iell 
into  their  hands. 

Thk  Indian  method  of  carrvino*  on  a  war, 
was  so  contrary  to  the  maxims  and  customs  of 
all  civilized  nations,  that  some  of  the  European 
writers,  judging  from  their  own  customs,  have 
concluded  it  was  founded  on  cowardice,  and  a- 
rose  from  an  ignoble  and  timid  spirit,  afraid  to 
meet  its  opposers  on  equal  ground,  and  depend- 
ing wholly  on  craft,  and  not  at  all  on  courage 
and  firmness  of  mind.  No  conclusion  was  ev- 
er further  from  the  truth.  When  placed  in  a 
criticid  and  dangerous  situation,  no  people  ever 
discovered  more  valour,  firmness,  and  intrepidi- 
ty. When  subdued,  an  Indian  was  never 
known  to  ask  for  his  Hfe.  When  compelled  to 
suffer,  the  Indian  bore  it  with  a  steadiness,  a 
fortitude,  and  a  magnanimity,  unknown  to  all 
other  nations  ;  and  of  which,  there  are  no  ex- 
amples in  the  history  of  war.  His  method  of 
V,  ar  did  not  arise  from  a  sense  and  fear  of  dan- 
ger ;  he  was  well  acquainted,  and  always  in  the 
midst  of  this  ;  but  it  arose  from  his  situation 
and  employment,  and  was  perfectly  well  adapted 
to  it.  From  his  situation  and  employment  as  an 
hunter,  he  acquired  the  art  of  ambuscade  and 
surprise  ;  and  the  method  with  which  he  couid 
best  succeed  in  taking  his  game,  he  found  to  be 


i 


I  ■ 


H 


H'i 


/'I 'I 


1^'  fr 


^    \ 


'  \ 


i ;} 


% 


•i! '  ii 


iiO)imiLi,L  I- 


■'■,  '■ ) 


178 


NATUKAL  AND    (TVIL 


I"    > 


J  ,  »        ..  ; 


I  \ 


!■• 


r'i 


fs- 


i 


h 


the  Tno5t  snccc^ssful  to  cnsnnrc  and  ovcrrom-* 
his  c^icmy.  The  sitiKttion  and  stutc^  of  i1k» 
country,  ovcr.sprr:id  ^^'ith  thi<^k  forests,  lead  t> 
the  s'.ime  method.  The  siumtion  of  the  tribo, 
ficatlered  and  dispersed  in  the  A\on(ls,  sii^^gestcd 
tlic  same  idea.  The  method  of  fighting  eould 
Tiot  be  in  the  open  fields,  but  arnon,?^  the  trees. 
And  he  nisdy  plaeed  the  point  of  hono)U',  in 
the  public  good  ;  \vherc  the  prospeet  and  thr 
i)robabilitv  of  his  success  lav.  Had  the  honour 
of  the  Indian  a\  arrior  been  plaeed,  in  courtinp; 
fcimt  and  victory  in  the  open  field,  the  ^vhole 
tribe  would  have  been  destroyed  by  the  effusion 
of  blood  that  must  have  succeeded.  His  max- 
ims therefore  A\'ere  better  cliosen,  and  they  v»ere 
such  as  everv  circumstance  in  his  situation  and 

m 

employment  naturally  led  him  to  r  Not  in  an 
useles-i  ostentation  of  darinjij  courage  and  bold- 
ness, but  in  the  public  utility  and  advantage. 
So  far  as  an  enterprizc  depended  on  secrecy, 
subtlety,  surprize,  and  impetuosity,  the  Indian 
method  of  war  scenes  to  have  been  fully  equal 
to  the  European.  The  Spar.iards,  the  French, 
the  English,  and  the  States  of  America,  have 
had  many  and  painful  proofs  of  their  address 
and  prowess  in  this  method.  But  when  a  fort 
was  erected,  or  a  small  fortification  to  be  carri- 
ed, the  Indian  method  of  war  wholly  failed. 
Neither  their  arms,  their  arts,  or  their  customs, 
were  of  any  avail  here.  \A^holly  unacquainted 
with  the  art  of  fortification,  they  could  neithoi' 
erect,  or  take  a  fort  of  anv  strength.  When 
the  Europeans  had  once  got  possession  of  any 
part  of  their  country,  and  erected  a  small  forti- 
fication in  ti^ir  territories,  they   held   it  by  sl 


-art"  pt 
able  tol 
and   n( 
i'.irtluni 


"    f 


Oa: 


HISTOKV    OF    VKKMON'r.       175 

Min'  possession.     The  savap;cs  were  wliolly  iin- 
aljlc  to  (lisposstss  tlirui  by  their  method  of  war, 
and   nothiii^q;  wiis   lel't  lor   ihom   but   to   ictivut 
r.irther  into  the  forests.     la  this  way  the  Knr^- 
llsh,  and  French  were  making  constant  advaii- 
cts  iuLo  their  country  ;  and  tlieir  art  of  war  af- 
fui'ded  them  no  siilllcient  means,  cither  to  pre- 
vent or  to  redress  it.     But  when  the  Europeans 
(biloued    them    into   the    woods,    where    their 
btrent^tli  and  art   mig;ht  be  employed  to  ad  van  • 
ta,!.^'%  thr  Indians  g.enerally  sm'prised  and  defcat- 
f(l  their  armies,  with  great  havoc  and  slaughtci-. 
Kp'tcation.     The    ^iibsistence    and  safety 
of  the  tribe  depended  t)  much  upon  the  hunter, 
and  warrior,  tliat   these   became   of  course   the 
most  necessary,  useful,  and  honourable  profes- 
sions.    When  in    pursuit   of  food,  the    young 
mvn  put  themselves  under  the  direction   of  tlie 
most  noted  and  successful  hunter.     Goin^i:  forth 
10  war,   they  followed  the  most  renowned   and 
successful  warrior.     Eminence  in  these  profes- 
sions was  the  surest  way  to  subsistence,  to  dis- 
tinction, to  honour,  and  renown.     This  w  as  the 
basis,  and  formed  the  whole  business  of  educa> 
uon,   among  the  savages.      To   train    up   tlitf 
youth  to  address  and   dexterity  in  hunting  ;  to 
make  him  patient,  firm,  persevering,  in  hardship 
and  suffering  ;  inveterate,   fierce,  and  intrepid 
in  destrovins:  his  enemies  ;  was  the  chiei'  aim 
and  design  of  the  parent.     Every  thingnliat  had 
no  connexion  with  this,  was  neglected  and  des- 
pised.    The  arts  of  acquiring  knowledge,  gov- 
erning the  passions,  refining  the  manners,  and 
cultivating  improvements,   were  unknovvn  and 
undesired  bv  the  savasre.     He  never  corrected 


•i; 


!  ;   I 


ii.it 


\..\ 


\  ■■    t 


ll-Hi 


' 


ijt 


( I 


..'  i\ 


I 


r   1 


I 


^ 


I: 


!•.( 


I'll 


,*li 


(    ' 


i  '4 


180 


NATURAL    AND  CIVIL 


or  restrained  his  child,  taught  him  to  niodcnitc 
his  apj)etitcs  and  ])assions,  to  submit  to  ])arc'nl- 
al,  or  vAiY  uthcr  autliority  :  On  the  contrary  he 
was  trained  up  to  take  care  of  himself,  to  ji^rati. 
fy  every  inclination  and  appetite,  and  t-o  look 
for  food  and  honour  in  his  own  exertions,  inde- 
pendence, and  superiority.  The  parent  wished 
fttnd  aimed  to  form  his  son  to  hardship  and  dan- 
ger, to  bear  fatigue,  famine,  and  torture,  to  en- 
snare and  take  the  Lnnnc,  and  to  carry  destnir- 
tion  and  vengeance  upon  his  enemies.  To  tlTiA 
plan  of  education,  the  whole  aim  and  conduct, 
the  instruction,  the  manners,  and  the  example 
of  ilie  parent,  was  directed  :  the  only  aim  and 
design,  was  to  make  the  }'outh  an  able  and  ac- 
complished liunter,  and  warrior.  Neither  tlie 
views  of  the  parent,  or  the  wishes  and  aims  of 
the  child,  ever  rose  any  higher,  or  extended  any 
further  than  this. 

Nkxt  to  the  civil  and  military  regulations, 
theCusToMs  andMANNERS  of  the  Indians  claim 
our  attention.  The  customs  and  manners  of  a 
nation,  always  constitute  a  distinguishing  part 
of  the  national  character  ;  and  as  they  vary  with 
the  progress  of  society,  they  serve  to  ascertain, 
and  mark  the  different  stages  of  it.  In  several 
respects,  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  In- 
dians were  different  from  those  of  other  people, 
and  are  marked  with  a  singularity  peculiar  to 
the  saA'age  state. 

Gravity  of  Appearance.  A  gravity  of 
appearance  and  countenance  always  engages  our 
attention,  when  ^ve  are  in  the  company  of  the 
Indians.  Placed  in  a  situation  of  constant  dif- 
ficulty  and  danger,  depending  altogether  upon 


"i! 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       181 

himself,  and  having  ever  before  him  pursuits^ 
which  to  him  arc  of  the  highest  importance,  the 
savage  becomes  extremely  grave  and  serious. 
Every  thing  in  his  appearance  and  behaviour,  is 
marked  with  this  gravity  of  aspect*  His  be- 
haviour to  those  around  him,  is  decent  and 
modest*  His  words  are  few  and  significant,  and 
generally  upon  some  matter  of  business  ;  scarce- 
ly ever  for  merriment  or  diversion.  So  great  is 
their  habit  of  gravity,  seriousness,  and  silence, 
that  it  rather  bears  the  appearance  of  melancholy 
and  sadness. 

Treatment  of  Women.  A  promiscuous 
intercourse  between  the  sexes,  scarcely  ever 
took  place  among  the  human  race.  The  rela- 
tion of  husband  and  wife,  has  been  everv  where 
understood,  adopted,  and  acknowledgea  j  and 
this  was  universally  the  case  among  all  the 
tribes  of  the  American  Indians.  Where  the 
difficulty  of  procuring  subsistence  was  not  easi- 
ly to  be  removed,  the  man  had  generally  but 
one  wife.  Where  the  means  of  subsistence 
were  in  great  plenty,  and  easily  to  be  attained, 
the  savage  had  often  a  plurality  of  wives.  But 
in  general,  the  Indian  family  consisted  of  one 
man  and  woman,  and  their  children.  This  un- 
ion generally  subsisted  during  the  lives  of  the 
parties  ;  but  if  it  became  a  matter  of  choice  to 
separate,  the  marriage  union  was  dissolved,  and 
no  cause  or  ceremony  was  necessary,  but  choice 
and  consent.  It  is  not  until  the  refinements  of 
society  have  taken  place,  that  women  acquire 
the  rank,  consequence,  and  importance,  to 
which  they  are  so  justly  entitled.  To  despise, 
to  degrade,  and  to  abuse  them,  has  been  the 

VOL.    I.  Y 


*:i 


!.  ■  i ;  I  ■ 


■'• 


II' 


!   ' 


•  ?     ;( 


'(r 


''^/llJl 


ff 


■'  i  •! 


M 


.>■ 


;f  •  '=' 


182 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


t    \ 


:l'. 


*!' 


I. 


M 


I  -  r 
1    h 


\  I 


§    f 


I    I 


1 


practice  of  every  nation  while  it  remained  in  the 
savage  state.  Without  tenderness,  without 
delicacy,  without  refinement,  the  heart  of  the 
savage  does  not  look  for  pleasure  in  the  beauty, 
chastity,  and  modesty  ;  in  the  tenderness,  dcIi- 
cacy,  and  affection  ;  or  in  the  attachment,  con- 
versation,  and  refined  manners  of  the  female  ; 
but  in  the  labours  and  menial  services  she  is 
able  to  perform.  In  this  stage  of  society,  mar- 
riage is  not  a  tender  attachment,  or  a  union  of 
refined  and  delicate  affections  between  the  sex- 
es  ;  but  altogether  an  animal  inclination,  the 
bare  instinct  of  nature.  Placing  all  excellency 
in  strength  and  courage,  the  male  views  the  fe- 
male as  every  way  inferior  to  himself ;  not  fit- 
ted foi;,  honourable  employments,  but  destined 
to  inferior  purposes  and  services.  Of  conse- 
quence, the  condition  of  women  in  the  savage 
state  becomes  degraded,  mortifying,  and  sub- 
ject to  servitude.  The  savage  assigns  to  his 
wife  the  care  of  the  children,  the  business  of 
labouring  in  the  field,  and  all  the  services  of 
domestic  care  and  difficulty.  Among  the  In- 
dians, this  degradation  of  the  female  was  carri- 
ed to  its  greatest  extreme.  Every  thing  most 
valuable  in  food,  dress,  and  ornament,  was  re- 
served for  the  man  :  the  most  laborious,  fatigu- 
ing, and  disagreeable  services,  were  assigned  to 
the  women.  Doomed  to  incessant  toil  and 
slavery,  the  women  perform  their  perpetual 
tasks  without  pity,  without  compassion,  without 
praise,  and  without  the  gratitude  of  their  hus- 
bands. To  this  degraded,  unhappy  state, 
were  the  women  reduced  among  all  the  Indian 


tribes. 


Ill 

it 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        183 

Dress.  The  same  pursuit  that  supplied  the 
Inc'ian  with  food,  provided  also  his  clothing. 
This  was  miidc  of  the  skins  and  furs  of  the  ani- 
mals they  took  in  hunting  :  these  served  the 
puiposes  of  covering,  and  modesty,  none  of  the 
northern  Indians  ever  appearing  naked.  In 
those  jiations  where  opulence  and  luxury  pre- 
"Sail,  dress  becomes  a  complicated,  a  profitable, 
and  a  curious  art  :  And  beauty  acquires  new 
force  C3  d  pov/er,  from  ornament  and  fashion. 
IierjLC  it  becomes  a  most  lucrative  business  in 
poJished  societies,  to  invent  and  supply  the 
luodtb,  fashions,  materials,  and  ornaments  for 
drcLS.  The  savage  was  not  without  his  taste 
lor  ornnn^'cnt,  and  fashion.  His  hair  was  dres- 
sed in  many,  and  in  very  singular  forms.  His 
liose  and  ears  had  pieces  of  gold,  shells,  or 
shifiing  stones,  affixed  to  them.  His  face  and 
skin  were  painted,  with  difi'erent  colours  and 
figures.  And^much  time  was  spent  to  give  his 
countenance  the  aspect  he  aimed  at.  The  de- 
sign of  his  drcGy  and  ornament  was  not  gallant- 
ry to  recommend  himself  to  the  female,  but  ra- 
ther war ;  to  appear  the  object  of  dignity,  ma- 
jesty, arid  fear.  And  what  was  extremely  sin- 
gular, all  the  finery  and  decoration  of  dress,  was 
reserved  for  the  man.  I'he  share  that  fell  to 
til'"  woman,  was  only  that  w  hich  remained,  when 
her  husbarid  was  completely  decked.  When 
he  was  about  to  j»  in  the  council  of  his  nation, 
or  was  going  forth  to  v.ar,  he  was  most  of  all 
solicitous  to  appear  in  his  richest  ornaments, 
and  finest  decorations.  A  custom  prevailed  a- 
mong  the  Indians,  of  rubbing  and  anointing 
thcii'  bodies  with  grease,  oil,  and  different  kinds 


I  'I! 


1.;. 


1 


:w/.,,p 


;    '. '' 


:!' .  ' 


Mi 

.4 


v.  I 


r 


:!:■•;•  ; 


!^  '  (■ 


1  > 


il'! 


t|.  1 


\   I 


i 


'■H    .A 


\  ;.^;ih 


184 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


of  gums.  These  were  often  mixed  with  differ- 
ent colours,  and  formed  a  very  durable  paint, 
or  kind  of  varnish.  This  may  properly  be  esti- 
mated  as  a  part  of  the  Indian  dress.  And  it 
was  well  adapted  to  defend  the  body,  against 
the  extreme  moisture  and  cold  of  the  forest  and 
lake,  to  protect  them  against  the  numerous 
tribes  of  insects  to  which  they  were  exposed, 
and  to  check  the  profuse  perspiration  to  which 
they  were  subject,  at  different  times  and  places. 

Idleness.  When  engaged  in  hunting  and 
war,  the  savage  appears  active,  enterprising,  and 
indefatigable.  But  when  these  favorite  occu- 
pations are  ended,  an  universal  inactivity,  and 
mdolcnce,  take  place.  The  time  of  the  Indian 
is  speiit  in  eating,  sleeping,  and  sitting  still. 
When  he  applies  to  any  kind  of  labour,  it  ib 
with  little  activity,  and  with  a  great  aversion. 
They  will  spend  whole  years  in  making  a  pipe, 
forming  a  canoe,  or  building  a  hut.  The  la- 
bours of  agriculture,  are  wholly  assigned  to  the 
women  :  Inactive  and  slothful,  the  man  cannot 
be  roused  up  to  any  kind  of  labour  and  fatigue. 
His  time  is  of  no  value  to  him  :  Every  thing- 
but  hunting  and  war,  is  esteemed  below  his 
dignity  and  attention.  And  of  all  employments, 
the  lowest  and  most  base,  in  his  view,  is  dig- 
ging, toiling,  and  labouring  in  the  earth.  The 
most  indolent,  slothful,  and  contemptible,  in 
civilized  nations,  have  the  same  idea  of  honor 
and  industry  ;  that  labour,  especially  agriculture, 
is  beneath   their  dignity  and  honor. 

Dirtiness.  Cleanliness  seems  to  be  insep- 
crably  connected  with  industry,  and  some  de- 
giec  of  refinement.     Destitute  of  both,  the  sav^ 


*l 

M 

'jtl|5i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


185 


ages  of  North  America  were  sunk  into  the  lowest 
estate  of  filth  and  dirtiness.  Nothing  can  ex- 
ceed the  nastiness  that  appears  in  their  food,  in 
their  cabins,  and  in  their  garments.  The  ves- 
sels in  which  they  cook  and  eat  their  victuals, 
are  never  washed.  The  dirt  and  grease  in  their 
huts,  are  never  removed  or  swept  away.  Their 
garments  arc  never  changed  or  washed,until  they 
wear  to  rags,  and  waste  away.  No  idea  of 
cleanliness  seems  to  have  entered  inlo  their 
minds.  This  seems  to  be  one  of  the  customs, 
common  to  all  savages  ;  Inactive  and  lazy,  they 
are  all  extremely  filthy  and  dirty. 

Gaming.  Gaming  is  an  amusement,  to 
which  indolence  and  want  of  employment  natu- 
rally lead.  Above  the  occupations  of  labour, 
and  without  a  taste  for  useful  employments, 
many  in  civilized  life  seek  a  relief  in  gaming, 
for  the  pains  of  indolence  ;  and  for  a  method, 
to  move  and  agitate  a  languid  mind.  Moved 
by  the  same  cause  and  motive,  the  savage  also 
falls  to  gaming,  as  the  most  favorite  amuse- 
ment ;  indolent  and  lifeless  in  all  the  exertions 
of  labour,  he  becomes  deeply  engaged,  impetu- 
ous, and  noisy  in  play.  Every  thing  he  posses- 
ses, is  staked  at  these  diversions  ;  and  he  looses 
his  peace,  his  senses,  and  all  that  he  is  worth. 
But  these  amusements  do  not  issue  in  conten- 
tion and  quarrels  :  Though  carried  on  whh  a 
frantic  eagerness,  they  are  generally  managed, 
and  terminate  in  good  humor  and  peace. 

Songs.  Averse  to  all  abstruse  meditations, 
the  Indians  are  ttucH  delighted  with  songs. 
To  an  European  eaif,  their  songs  do  not  aftbrd 
muqh  entertainment' f  nor  can  such  discern  har- 


i    ,! 


K 


i  ^  V,^ 


■I 


I  i 


f 


' '  ii 

i'   ': 


Hi       I 


; 


r  \t 


ill 


^.•.*-^ 


I  r 


180 


NAURAL  AND  CIVIL 


1^' 
I 


•M 


'if         ii 


I  ! 


I    .'• 


■H 


1 


mony,  melody  or  any  variety  in  their  tunes. 
However  this  may  be,  the  savages  are  ahva\s 
delighted  with  nuisic.  Their  songs  are  of  a 
grave  and  serious  turn.  They  never  relate  to  the 
concerns  of  gallantry  and  love,  but.  to  their  most 
serious  emplo}  menls.  They  have  songs  for  v,  ur, 
songs  for  victo»7  and  songs  for  death.  Each  of 
them  is  designed  to  excite  and  call  forth  the  sen- 
timents,  feelings,  and  passions,  that  such  occa- 
sions require ;  andihey  have  a  great  influence  on 
their  feelings,  and  actions.  Amidst  the  severest 
sufferings  ofdeath,this  is  the  resort  of  the  savage; 
and  when  burning  at  the  stake,  the  last  coiiso- 
latioujis  to  sing  the  song  of  triumph  and  death. 
Dancing.  Dancing  has  been  one  of  tie  fa- 
vorite amusements  of  ail  nations.  In  civilized 
societies  this  amusement  is  designed  to  p  o- 
mote  a  rclinement  of  manners  ;  and  t;  rves  to 
excite  the  sensibility,  and  deiir.acv,  wLich  at- 
taches and  refines  the  sexes.  Dancing  is  i..!so 
the  favorite  employment  of  the  savage,  in  every 
part  of  the  globe.  It  calls  forth  his  active  pow- 
ers,  which,  when  unemployed,  languish  and  de- 
cay  for  want  of  exercise.  And  in  no  employ. 
ment,  does  he  become  more  animated,  vigorous, 
and  eager.  Instead  of  being  an  amusement,  an 
affair  of  gallantry,  love,  or  refinement,  dancing, 
among  the  savages,  is  a  ceremony  of  great  im- 
port£\nce  and  seriousness.  With  this  ceremony 
war  is  declared,  an  embassador  is  received,  and 
peace  is  concluded.  It  is  by  a  dance,  that  ev- 
ery important  transaction  in  public  or  private 
life,  is  celebrated.  Their^Htmces  are  generally 
carried  on  by  the  men,  f^d  it  is  but  seldom 
that  the  women  are  permitted  to  join  in  them. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


187 


All  the  steps,  figures,  and  motions  of  the  dance, 
are  expressive  ;  and  significant  oi"  the  business 
or  transaction,  it  is  designed  to  denote.  If  war 
is  to  be  proclaimed,  the  dance  is  expressive  of 
the  resentment  and  rage  they  bear  to  their  cnc- 
niirs,  and  of  the  hostile  manner,  in  which  they 
mean  to  treat  them.  If  a  party  are  going  forth 
against  their  enemies,  the  dance  of  war  is  to  be 
j)crforined.  In  this,  the  transactions  of  the 
whole  campaign  are  to  be  expressed.  The 
T\  arriors  arc  represented  as  departing  from  their 
couiitry,  entering  that  of  the  enemy,  surprising 
and  conquering  their  foes,  seizing  prisoners, 
s  aping  the  dead,  and  returning  in  triumph  to 
the  applause  of  their  country.  The  performers 
appear  to  be  agitated  with  all  the  natural  pas- 
sions and  fiselings,  that  take  place  in  any  of 
these  scenes.  The  caution,  the  secrecy,  the 
fierceness  and  cruelty  of  the  warriors,  is  repre- 
sented in  a  natural  and  animated  manner.  The 
whole  is  designed  to  excite  those  passions  and 
feelings  in  the  warrior,  which  it  is  designed  to 
represent.  And  so  quick,  exact,  and  dreadful, 
is  the  representation,  that  the  uninformed  spec- 
tator is  struck  with  horror,  and  looks  to  see  the 
ground  covered  with  mangled  limbs,  and 
slaughtered  bodies.  If  peace  is  made,  this  is 
also  celebrated  by  a  dance.  The  ambassadors 
and  the  warriors  smoke  in  the  same  pipe,  and 
join  together  in  the  same  dance.  The  dance  is 
adapted  to  signify  that  the  hatchet  is  buried, 
that  the  blood  is  all  washed  away,  and  that  the 
ghosts  of  the  slain  are  appeased,  and  at  rest  ; 
and  that  both  nations  are  now  to  live,  in  all  the 
friendship    and    familiaiity    of    brotherhood. 


■  ,1 


■  ;,. 


t.'v       ■ 


'« 


!  1 


■■'■■', 


t 


it  ,■     * 


ill 


■•M 


I 


188 


NATURAL  AND    CIVIL 


Thus  instead  of  being  barely  an  amusement  iiai 
diversion,  dancing  among  the  Indians,  is  a  very 
important  and  significant  ceremony  ;  designcdto 
represent  some  important  transaction,  and  to 
inspire  those  feelings  and  passions,  which  it 
should  naturally  produce.  Is  it  not  remarkable, 
that  among  the  savages  in  the  first  stage  of  so- 
ciety,  dancing  should  be  adapted  to  public  and 
national  purposes  ;  that  all  the  steps,  figures, 
and  motions  of  it,  should  be  arts  of  imitation  ; 
and  that  among  civilized  nations,  all  the  steps 
and  motions  should  be  without  design,  insignifi. 
cant,  and  without  any  meaning  at  all  ? 

Beard.  The  customs  and  methods  of  dif- 
ferent  nations,  have  been  various  and  different, 
resj)ccting  their  beards.  Some  have  carefully 
preserved  them  as  the  tokens  of  manhood,  gravi- 
ty, and  majesty.  Others  have  curled,  twisted, 
and  braided  them,  to  give  the  appearance  of 
elegance  and  beauty  :  Others  have  entirely  cut 
them  off",  as  an  useless  encumbrance  ;  and  to 
acquire  greater  softness,  mildness,  and  amiable- 
ness  of  appeafancc.  These  different  customs 
and  fashions,  do  not  appear  to  be  derived  from 
any  permanent  cause,  or  instinct  founded  in  na- 
ture  ;  but  to  be  matters  of  fancy,  supeustition, 
convenience,  or  vanity.  In  this  respect  the  In- 
dians had  a  custom  different  from  those  of  other 
nations.  It  is  their  universal  and  constant 
practice,  to  pluck  them  out  by  the  roots  ;  and 
to  destroy,  as  far  as  possible,  the  appearance  of 
any  beard  at  all.  Every  man  has  an  instrument 
made  for  this  purpose  :  It  consists  of  a  wire, 
twisted  round  a  stick,  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
draw  the  hair  out  of  the  flesh,  and  extract  the 


-:yLkl,_ 


'    r: 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      I8d 

root.  The  Indian  carries  such  an  instrument 
with  him  :  And  it  makes  a  regular  and  con- 
stant part,  of  what  he  esteems  his  dress, 
to  extract  aixl  destroy  his  beard.  So  fond  arc 
they  of  this  custom,  that  whenever  the  Indian 
can  obtain  a  looking-glass,  his  first  business  is 
to  examine  his  face,  and  with  this  kind  of  twee- 
zer, pluck  out  all  the  hairs  he  can  discover. 
They  generally  recommend  this  custom  to 
their  captives,  as  what  would  increase  their 
beauty,  and  destroy  their  hairy  appearance, 
which  the  savage  greatly  dislikes. 

Some  philosophers  have  supposed,  that  the 
beardless  countenance  of  the  Indian,  is  derived 
not  from  custom,  but  from  nature  :  That  the 
Indian  is  without  any  beard,  or  hair  on  any  part 
of  his  body,  except  the  eyebrows  and  head  : 
That  this  arises  from  a  defect  in  the  powers 
and  vigour  of  nature  ;  and  is  an  evidence  of 
weakness,  impotency,  and  want  of  manhood.* 
The  fact  and  the  conclusion,  are  both  mistakes. 
Nature  is  the  same  in  the  Indian,  as  it  is  in  the 
European  :  And  on  whatever  part  of  the  body 
it  has  assigned  hair  to  the  one,  it  has  given  it  to  the 
other.  I  am  assured  of  this  from  those  who 
have  slain,  stripped,  and  buried  their  warriors  : 
I  have  the  same  information  from  those,  who 
have  been  their  captives  ;  and  who  have  seen 
all  the  members  of  an  Indian  family,  dressed 
and  undressed,  and  in  all  situations.  The  same 
is  asserted  by  those,  who  have  lived  among  the 
civilized  tribes,  and  been  called  to  perform  of- 
fices of  humanity,  to  the  Indians  of  each  sex. 

♦  Buffon,Kaim»,  Robertson,  &c. 
VOL.    I.  Z 


li- 


i 


I  I 


'<  ll 


'( 


II    '!' 


;■•;<  , 
1(1' 


^; 


i^    ■1 


ji,i 


(f 


190 


NAtURAI.  AND  CIVIL 


!      '  .ii, 


ill     /I'l 


1   '  '  :',' 


The  bciirdlcss  countenance  of  the  Indian  then, 
is  not  to  be  ranked  luuon.-^thc  curious  and  ex- 
traordliiary  plicnf)mcna  of  nature,  but  is  to  be 
placed  among  tlic  customs  peculiar  to  the  In- 
dian tribes. 

D  R  u  N  K  E  N  N  E  5  r, .  Drunlcenncss  is  one  of 
tliose  vices,  \\hich  prevail  among  a  rude  and 
uncultivated  people.  The  savages  of  North 
America,  arc  universally  addicted  to  it.  Before 
they  were  acquainted  w  ilh  the  Europeans,  they 
bad  discovered  a  composition,  or  liquor,  ol'aii 
inebriating  nature,  made  out  oF  maize  or  Indian 
corn.  But  the  difliculty  of  procuring  a  large 
quantity  of  this  liquor,  prevented  any  general 
intemperance,  or  excess. 

No  sooner  had  they  tasted  of  the  spirituous  li- 
quors brought   by   the    ICuropeans,    than   they 
contracted   a    new   appetite^  which   they    were 
wholly  unable  to  govern.     The  Europeans  found 
it  the  most  lucrative  branch  of  the  Indian  trade, 
to  gratify  this  inclination.     With  an  avidity   of 
desire    altogether  uncontroulable,  the    Indians 
fell  hito  the  snare.     The  fu\'.t  object   of  inquiry 
with  them,  was,  whether  the  trader  had  brought 
any  brandy  or   rum  ;    and   no   considerations 
could  restrain  them  in  the  use  of  it.     The   old 
and  the  young,  the   sachem,   the  warrior,  and 
the  women,  whenever  they    can   obtain    strong 
liquors,  indulge  themselves  without  moderation, 
and  without  decenev,  until  universid   drunken- 
ness  takes  place.     All  the  tribes  wliether  placed 
in  a  temperate,  or  in  a  severe  ell  mate,  appear  to 
be  under  the  dominion,  and  unable    to   govern 
this  appetite.  An  effect  so  universal  and  similai', 
musthave  as  general  S^  universal  a  cause.  The  cause 


HISTORY  OF  VEUMONT. 


191 


will  he  found  to  have  a  deep  and  a  strong  foun- 
datici'i,  in  their  manner,  custom,  and  habit  of 
li\  ing.  Their  constant  mctliod  of  living,  was 
on  raw  or  boiled  meat,  and  fresh  Avater.  Tliis 
did  not  satisfy  the  desires  of  nature  ;  and  natu- 
rally produced  an  appetite  for  every  thing, 
which  was  astringent,  stimulating,  and  inflammi- 
tory.  When  they  met  with  ardent  spirit,  they 
fgund  that,  which  is  the  most  highly  gratifying 
to  such  an  appetite.  The  hardships  and  sufi'er- 
jngs  to  which  the  Indian  was  exposed,  their 
want  of  comfortable  refreshments  and  support, 
and  the  extremes  of  heat,  cold,  and  mois- 
ture, to  whicli  they  were  subject,  were  constant- 
ly adding  new  force,  to  an  appetite  already  ex- 
cesbi\  e.  Few  of  the  ^\•hite  people,  who  have 
been  reduced  to  such  a  situation  for  a  few 
months,  have  been  able  to  preserve  their  tem- 
pirancc.  The  Indian  proved  wholly  inadequate 
to  the  trial.  Unaccustomed  to  la}'  any  restraint 
on  his  appetites  and  passions,  and  unable  to 
bear  but  a  small  quantity  of  the  liquor,  to 
which  he  had  been  unused,  he  is  overcome  up. 
on  the  first  trial.  His  appetite,  the  more  influ- 
med  by  irregular  enjoyment,  becomes  more 
keen  and  raging,  until  extreme  excess  puts  it 
out  of  his  power  to  indulge  himself  any  longer. 
Nothing  but  a  total  change  of  the  whole  method 
of  his  living,  will  enable  him  to  preserve  that 
temperance  and  regularity,  which  to  a  person 
surrounded  with  all  the  comforts  of  life,  is  an 
easy  and  a  common  attainment. 

Cruelty.  There  are  no  ])assions  in  the 
human  mind,  which  operate  with  so  much  force  and 
fijurccness,  as  tliose  cf  angrr  and  rc\cnge.     Th^ 


I 


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W  .'•'  ■•'iBiUag 


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192 


NATURAL    AND  CIVIL 


l       f 


customs  and  maxims  of  polished  societies,  m\\ 
all  the  aid  of  their  laws  and  religion,  have  not 
as  yet  been  able  to  g;ivc  a  due  regulation  or 
restraint  to  these  passions.  In  many  cases,  an 
oflcnded  individual  cannot  be  made  to  believe, 
but  what  it  is  right  and  best  for  him,  to  be  the 
judge  and  the  avenger  of  his  own  injuries  ;  and 
that  it  is  the  mark  of  meanness,  to  leave  it  to 
the  laws  of  society,  to  make  a  proper  retaliation 
for  the  wrongs  he  has  received.  Higher  at- 
tainments must  vet  be  made  in  the  state  of  so- 
ciety,  before  an  adequate  restraint  and  regula- 
tion will  be  found  for  these  passions.  In  the 
breast  of  a  savage,  they  rage  without  any  con- 
troul  :  Instead  ofbeingtaught  any  restraint,  the 
young  savage  is  taught  in  early  life,  to  gratify 
and  indulge  them.  The  whole  force  of  educa- 
tion, example,  custom,  habit  and  manner  of 
living,  operate  with  a  decisive  influence,  to  give 
them  new  force  and  vigour.  By  the  govern- 
ment of  the  tribe,  the  revenge  of  injuries  is 
left  in  the  hands  of  every  individual  ;  and  to  be 
patient  and  moderate,  is  the  highest  mark  of 
meanness  and  want  of  spirit.  To  give  fui-iher 
force  to  the  spirit  of  vengeance,  all  the  maxans 
and  customs  of  v/ar,  have  placed  the  point  of 
honour,  in  rendering  the  spirit  of  revenge,  im- 
placable, unabating,  and  such  as  never  can  be 
satisfied,  subdued  or  lost.  Aided  bv  all  thtse 
motives  and  considerations,  anger  and  revenge, 
become  fierce,  brutal,  horrid,  bloody,  and  impla- 
cable passions,  in  the  breast  of  the  savage: 
More  like  the  destructive  rage  of  a  beast  of 
prey,  than  like  a  passion  in  the  heart  of  a  human 
jaeing.     The  effect,   is  a  barbarous   and  unrc^ 


■\^ 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.       195 

Icnting  cruelty  :  Far  from  pitying,  sparini^,  or 
forgivii.p  tIic  savage  aims  at  the  ruin,  dcbtruc- 
tion,  and  utter  cxtcm^ination  of  his  enemies. 
Hence  the  method  of  carr)ing  on  his  war,  was 
to  destroy  men,  women,  and  children  .  To  plun- 
der and  burn  ilicir  towns,  and  villages  :  To 
torture  and  torment  their  prisonci^e  :  And  to 
sweep  ofl*  whole  tribes,  with  an  universal  and  un- 
dibiinguished  carnage.  This  seems  to  have 
been  the  wish  and  aim  of  every  tribe,  v.hen  they 
engaged  in  war.  A  baiburous,  unrelenting 
cruelty,  distinguished  and  marked  all  their 
steps. 

The  cruelty  of  the  Indian  seems  to  have 
arisen  from  the  passions  of  anger  and  revenge. 
It  is  not  to  be  denied  but  that  there  are  other  pas- 
sions, which  have  carried  civilized  nations,  to 
t!ie  same  dreadful  extremes  in  crueltv.  Ava- 
rice  led  ihe  Spaniards  to  perpetrate  more  enor- 
mous crimes  and  cruelty  upon  the  Indians,  than 
the  Indians  w^ere  ever  capable  of  returning. 
The  scene  of  promiscuous  calamity,  destruction, 
murder,  and  butchery,  which  the  Spania.  ds  car- 
ried through  all  parts  of  South  America,  in  the 
number,  design,  degree,  duration,  variety,  and 
enormity  of  its  cruelties,  far  exceeded  any  thing 
that  was  ever  perpetrated  by  the  Indians.  If 
we  are  to  believe  the  declarations  of  a  celebra- 
ted modern  Statesman,*  the  avarice  of  a  com- 
pany of  merchants,  has  murdered  millions  and 
millions  of  mankind,  by  starving  them  to  death 
in  Bengal.  The  spirit  of  superstition  and  big- 
otry^   is  equally  cruel  and  unrelenting.     The 

•  Mr.  Burke. 


;■■•( 


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194 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


I,    '/t 


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It  ' 


iniirdcrs  of  the  inquisition  subsisted  for  centu- 
ries :  they  were  sanctioned  by  law,  and  are  not 
yet  done  away.  Imprisonment,  confiscation, 
and  death  in  its  most  awful  forms,  were  the 
punishments  which  bigots,  whenever  they  had 
power,  never  failed  to  inflict  with  great  pleas- 
ure, upon  tliose  who  were  wise  and  virtuous 
enough  to  oppose  them.  The  massacre  on  St. 
Bartholomew's  day,  in  1572,  was  one  of  tHe 
most  barbarous  and  honid  of  all  human  trans- 
actions. In  the  midst  oi'  the  most  polite  citj 
in  Europe,  the  king,  princes,  nobility,  and 
priests,  turned  monsters,  assassins,  and  butch- 
ers  ;  and  murdered  thirty  thousand  of  their  fel- 
low men,  on  account  of  their  religion.  Their 
rage  was  attended  with  circumstances  of  inhu- 
iiian  cruelty  and  biirbaritj',  far  exceeding  the 
fierce  and  bloody  passions  of  the  savages  of  A- 
merica.  Our  own  countrymen  ought  not  to 
forget,  that  revenge  has  also  transported  them 
into  a  conduct,  equally  inhuman  and  barbarous 
as  that  of  the  Indians.  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  Indian  war,  in  1676,  the  government  tried 
several  of  their  captives,  by  the  English  laws  : 
Some  were  condemned,  and  executed  upon  tlie 
gallows  ;  and  others  w^erc  sent  to  consume  their 
days,  in  the  slavery  of  the  West  India  Islands  : 
A  punishment,  to  them  more  severe  than  death. 
In  the  cruelty  and  barbarity  of  the  Indian, 
man  aj^pears  in  a  situation  but  little  removed 
from  the  brutal  ferocity  of  the  beast  of  prey. 
But  when  avarice,  bigotry,  and  revenge,  pro- 
duce the  same  infej'nal  spirit  among  civilized 
nations,  cruelty  appears  with  a  more  diabolical 
aspect  ;  not  like  the  rage  of  wild  beasts,  but 


'VJ 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.       195 

like  the  fury  and  vengeance  of  a  combination 
ol' apostate  spirits.  The  progress  of  knowledge, 
humunity,  and  refinement,  will  afford  the  only 
effectual  remedy  for  this  evil. 

Such  were  the  regulations,  customs,  and 
manners  of  tl^e  Indians,  the  original  men  of  A- 
merica.  They  have  been  viewed  by  philoso- 
phers, in  the  most  opposite  and  contrary  lights. 
Some  have  supposed  that  the  Indians  were  in 
the  infancy  of  existence,  that  the  whole  conti- 
nent of  America  was  but  lately  raised  out  of  the 
sea,  and  that  her  inhabitants  were  in  a  state  of 
degradation,  unworthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
men  of  the  more  ancient  and  improved  hemis- 
phere.* On  the  contrary,  others  have  contend- 
ed that  in  the  rudest  and  most  simple  state, 
man  attains  an  independence,  a  dignity,  and  a 
nobleness  of  mind,  which  is  never  found,  but  is 
always  lost,  amidst  the  refinements  of  polished 
societies  :  that  the  highest  dignity  and  noble- 
ness of  man,  is  derived  solely  from  nature^  and 
is  always  debased  and  corrupted  by  polish,  re- 
finement, and  the  arts,  f  To  view  this  subject 
in  its  proper  light,  it  will  be  necessary  to  com- 
pare the  savage  with  the  civilized  state,  and  to 
mark  the  various  Advantages  and  Disadvantages 
of  it. 

The  Savage  State  favourable  to  the 
Health,  Activity,  and  Vigour  of  the 
Body.  Among  the  advantages  that  were  con- 
nected with  the  savage  state,  it  may  justly  be 
esteemed  one,  and  a  matter  of  much  importance, 
that  it  was  favourable  to  the  vigour,  aotiv  ity, 

♦  BufFon, 


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( 


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t!      I 


I    M 


■  i't 


>  'M; 


■I; 


I         I 


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r'      /,    '' 


I       f 


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■I- 


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It ' 


i'^'-N    '•:'■! 


196 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


and  health  of  the  body.  It  is  by  exertion 
and  exercise,  that  the  body  acquires  its 
most  improved  state  of  activity,  firmness, 
vigour,  and  health.  Accustomed  to  range  the 
forests  in  quest  of  game,  the  Indian  acquired  an 
habit  and  activity  in  ti'avelling,  that  exceeded 
that  of  any  other  people.  In  the  expedition, 
sv/iftness  and  perseverance  of  his  course,  he 
much  exceeds  the  European.  No  people  bear 
hardship,  suffering,  and  fatigue  so  well  :  The 
extremities  of  heat  and  cold,  of  hunger  and 
thirst,  of  bad  weather,  and  of  bad  accommoda  • 
tions,  are  perfectly  familiar  to  the  Indian  :  And 
he  bears  tl^ni  with  a  much  less  effect  upon  his 
constitution,  than  the  men  who  have  been  used  to 
better  accommodations.  Unaccustomed  to  the 
steady  and  regular  employments  of  agriculture, 
his  bady  does  not  acquire  the  strength  that  the 
Europeanshave.  And  when  the  exertion,  is  an  ex- 
ertion of  strength,  and  steady  labour,  the  white  man 
is  found  to  be  the  strongest.  Those  only  of  the 
Indians,  who  have  been  educated  and  trained 
up  to  steady  and  hard  work,  are  equal  to  the 
white  men  in  bodil5'"  strength.  In  running  the 
race,  and  in  bearing  hardship,  the  Indian  ex- 
ceeds ;  but  in  strength  of  body,  and  bearing 
hard  and  stead  labour,  he  is  generally  unequal 
to  the  European.  ' 

In  respect  to  health,  the  savage  state  seems 
fully  equal  to  the  civilized.  Used  to  all  the  va- 
riations of  the  weather  and  climate,  he  suiFered 
but  little  from  such  changes.  The  diseases  to 
which  the  Indians  were  subject,  were  chiefly 
those  which  arose  from  exercise,  hardships,  and 
fatigues.      Fevers,  the   asthma,   and  paralytic 


1  r 


.i 


'M. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


197 


disorders,  made  the  capital  articles  in  the  histo- 
ry of  the  Indian  diseases.  But  that  numerous 
and  fearful  train  of  maladies,  which  arise  from 
luxury,  sioth,  intemperance,  and  want  of  exer- 
cise, were  unnamed,  and  unknown  among  the 
Indian  tribes.  In  their  villages  there  seemed  to 
be  a  greater  number  of  decayed  and  aged  per- 
sons, than  are  generally  to  be  found  among  an 
equal  number  of  white  people.  But  as  they 
had  not  the  art  of  numbers  and  computation, 
no  exact  accounts  could  be  procured  of  their 
age.  This  article  rests  therefore  rather  upon 
appearance,  and  indication  derived  from  decre- 
pit and  shrivelled  bodies,  than  from  any  proper 
and  authentic  accounts  ol'  the  years  and  longevi- 
ty to  which  they  attain.  All  appearances  howe\- 
er  seem  to  indicate,  that  activity,  vigour,  health, 
and  age,  were  to  be  found  to  great  -advantage 
in  the  savage  state. 

Favourable  to  Firmness  and  Forti- 
tude OF  Mind.  The  situation  and  employ- 
ment that  promoted  the  vigour  and  health  of 
the  body,  tended  to  produce  independence, 
firmness,  and  fortitude  in  the  mind.  Inured  to 
suffering,  hardship,  and  danger,  the  mind  of  the 
savage  was  formed  to  an  habitual  firmness  and 
courage.  His  mind  became  composed  and  col- 
lected in  critical  and  dangerous  situations-: 
And  he  suffered  but  little  from  apprehensions  of 
fear.  The  spirit  of  freedom  and  independence 
was  cultivated  and  confirmed  by  every  circum- 
stance attending  his  education,  employment, 
and  reputation.  Neither  corrected  nor  checked 
in  his  early  years,  retarded  or  stopped  in  any 
pursuit,  lie  knew  of  no  controul  or  restraint.--- 

voL.  r.         A  2 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Master  of  his  own  actions,  and  never  wishing 
to  moderate  his  passions,  the  spirit  of  freedom 
and  independence  took  the  entire  possession  of 
his  soul.  Moved  by  and  pcrpetULilly  conscious 
of  this  independent  spirit,  he  acted  in  circum- 
stances  of  distress  and  danger,  with  amazing 
force  and  ma9;naniinitv  o['  mind.  But  tliat 
which  the  savage  esteciucd  his  greatest  glory 
and  highest  dignity,  was  his  fortitude  and  bra- 
very. To  bear  fiurdship,  to  endure  suffering, 
to  be  unmoved  in  the  midst  of  torment,  and  to 
rise  superior  to  any  thing  that  could  be  laid  up- 
on  him  ;  this,  was  the  highest  honour,  and  the 
noblest  attainment  of  the  Avarrior.  And  in  this, 
it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  the  human  mind  at- 
tained in  the  savage  state,  a  fortitude  and  a  mag- 
nanimity that  it  does  not  attain,  amidst  the  re- 
finements, customs,  and  maxims  of  polished  na- 
tions. 

Amazed  at  the  firmness  and  fortitude,  which 
the  savage  disph\ys  in  the  most  dreadful  of  all 
situations,  several  philosophers  have  aimed  to 
discover  some  apathy,  some  natural  defect,  or 
want  of  sensibi  lity  in  his  frame,  which  qualified 
him  to  bear  pain  with  less  feeling,  and  with 
more  fortitude,  than  other  men.  There  is  no 
such  defect  in  his  constitution.  His  magna- 
nimity arises  from  a  sense  and  principle  of  hon- 
our. This  is  the  first  principle  he  is  taught  ; 
the  sole  object  of  his  education,  profession,  and 
pursuit.  Amidst  the  rudeness  and  hardihood 
of  the  savage  state,  this  principle  acts  with  more 
force  and  vigour  upon  the  human  mind,  than 
it  ever  acquires  amidst  the  refinements  and 
softness  of  a  more  polished  state  of  society. 


;i  ;        ' 


:.,       I 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.         ]99 


Refinement,  and  tlie  arts,  soften  and  relax  the 
mind  ;  philosophy  debilitates  the  body,  while  it 
aims  to  correct  iill  rudeness  and  excess  in  the 
mind,  and  to  sjive  it  a  just  habit  and  tone  of 
thinking  and  acting  :  But  in  the  rudeness  of 
the  so.vage  state,  every  thing  concurs  to  give  an 
unuliered  firmness  to  the  body,  and  to  the 
mind  ;  the  prineii)le  of  honour  has  nothing  to 
ojyposc  or  relax  it  :  And  it  will  be  in  the  most 
hr.i'dy  body  and  mind,  that  nature  and  honour 
will  act  ^\•ith  the  greatest  force  and  vigour. 
I'hc  principles  of  religion  only,  have  ever  pro- 
duced a  similar  phenomenon.  The  heroic  spir- 
it of  the  miirtyr,  undaunted  and  triumphant  in 
the  torture,  and  in  the  flame,  has  alone  exceed- 
ed or  equalled  the  fortitude  and  magnanimity  of 
the  man  of  nature. 

Favourable  to  Political  talents, 
AND  Virtues.  The  savage  state  was  also 
friendly  to  some  of  the  political  talents  and  vir- 
tues. TJie  love  of  his  country,  derived  from 
nature,  cherished  by  education,  ambition,  pre- 
cept, and  example,  became  a  very  powerful 
principle  in  the  breast  of  a  savage.  His  affec- 
tions wTre  confined  to  the  limits  of  his  own 
tribe,  and  his  views  never  extended  any  further. 
His  glory  terminated  in  the  services  he  could 
render  to  it :  And  the  greatest  of  all  attainments 
was  to  expand  the  national  fame,  reputation, 
and  coiiquests.  To  this  he  became  attached  by 
birth,  education,  and  interest  ;  by  ambition, 
honour,  and  a  thirst  for  glory.  Every  passion 
that  glowed  in  the  breast  of  the  savage,  served 
to  increase  and  add  strength  to  the  love  of  his 
country.      No  motives  cf  ambition,  gain,  re- 


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200 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


sr 


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H 


1. 1 


vcnge,  or  policy,  ever  lead  him  to  betray  its  in- 
terests or  councils,  to  desert  to  the  enemy,  or 
to  prove  a  traitor  to  the  country  and  tribe,  that 
gave  him  birth.  Thir.  principle  connected  to^ 
gether  the  memhcrR  of  the  same  tribe  :  It  seems 
to  have  taken  the  deepest  root,  to  have  acted 
M'ith  the  c^rcatest  force,  and  to  have  been  the 
least  corrupted,  in  the  savage  state. 

When  the  interests  of  their  country  were  to 
be  considered,  much  pntdeu re  imd  xvisdorn  were 
displayed  in  their  councils.  The  chiefs  and  el- 
ders consulted  with  great  deliberation,  serious- 
ness, and  calmness  ;  and  without  any  appear- 
unce  of  provocation,  resentment,  or  impatience 
at  contradiction  and  opposition.  Every  propo- 
sal was  considered  ;  the  probable  efiects  and 
consequences,  advantages  and  disadvantages, 
were  examined  and  weighed.  No  heat,  anger, 
ill  nature,  or  reflections  upon  one  another,  but 
perfect  calmness  prevailed  :  And  that  conclu- 
sion  was  embraced,  which  appeared  to  be  most 
beneficial  to  the  tribe.  Those  of  the  Europe- 
ans ^vho  have  attended  these  councils  of  the 
savages,  have  compared  them  to  the  accounts, 
historians  have  given  us,  of  the  proceedings  of 
the  senates  in  the  ancient  republics,"^  They 
bore  the  appearance  of  solemnity,  gravity,  and 
deliberation.  In  these  councils,  integrity  and 
public  virtue  was  always  preserved.  The  ob- 
jects they  had  to  determine,  were  not  of  a  trivial 
or  insignificant  nature  :  they  were  those,  which 
involve  all  that  is  the  most  dear,  valuable,  and 
important  to  man,  in  any  stage  of  society  :  The 


1 

ft 

■ 

\\ 

H , 

» 

•  Charlevoix  ii}.  a6.  Smith's  Hist.  Nc\vyorV,p.5^.  Phil.  Edit. 


"i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      201 

prcervatlon  and  protection  of  their  property  ; 
the  safety  and  the  lives  of  their  wives,  children, 
nnd  fatiiers  ;  the  existence,  the  independence, 
iir.d  the  freedom  of  their  country.  The  coun. 
cils  of  civilized  nations  may  be  employed  upon 
objects  of  a  much  greater  extent  ;  but  they 
never  can  contemplate  objects  of  more  impor- 
tance, of  greater  value,  or  of  a  higher  nature. 
In  attending  to  them  the  mind  of  the  savage  be- 
came composed,  sedate,  grave,  and  serious.  He 
had  no  private  interest  to  corrupt  him  ;  no 
broken  fortune  to  be  repaired  ;  notliing  to  I)e 
expected  from  the  misfortunes  of  his  country  ; 
from  lucrative  jobs,  posts  of  honour  and  profit ; 
from  the  management  of  the  public  wealth  ;  or 
from  the  weakness,  prejudice,  and  favourite 
passions  of  a  prince.  No  emoluments  or  ad- 
vantages could  accrue  to  him,  but  those  of  the 
public  good.  In  such  a  situation,  corruption 
would  not  enter  into  the  councils  of  the  savages. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  intrigue, 
dissimulation,  or  knavery.  All  the  advantages 
tliat  could  arise  to  individuals,  must  arise  from 
the  general  good  of  the  tribe.  And  where  there 
was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  corruption,  there 
was  notliing  left  for  their  counsellors,  but  to  dis- 
play their  greatest  ^^•isdom,  integrity,  and  public 
virtue.  • 

The  nature  of  their  government  and  councils 
was  also  favourable  to  eloquence^  and  the  art  of 
public  speaking.  This  seems  to  have  been  the 
only  art,  in  which  the  Indian  rose  to  any  emin^ 
ence.  Unable  to  remember  an  irregular  uncon- 
nected discourse,  the  Indian  was  extremely  fond 
of  regularity  and  method,     \Mien  he  spoke, 


t 


I 


( 


i'  . 


'i^.'    [:: 


n 


■> 


:'  • ' 


I 


J  i 


I 


;fi 


111. 


■:■ 


■11 


.1    . 


f>,,, 


202 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


*'     V,   . 


t'- 


If 


■H 


!■:■' 


.1    A'' 


! 

■''    ' 

■I.''' 


! 


Ms  speech  was  short  r.ncl  lacorJc  ;  and  thr  incr.ii 
iiitc  ^vL'.s  conv<.'>  cfl  in  bold  -.ind  ^llrone■  nicta;  hoi's. 
When  ihrv  rctuni  an  ans\\cr,  lh(.\  rcjx.;\t  il,c 
ivh.olc  ihiit  hi'.s  ))cen  said  to  thciii,  aiul  reduce  it 
into  a  stiirt  ar.d  regular  order.  Their  moixI'j 
iire  but  ll'vv  ;  the  hingiiao'C  ytrong,  and  ilgiira- 
tive  ;  the  figureb  c>:pressive,  vif.n)r()us,  and  l>o!d  ; 
tlulr  manner,  crave  and  aiiiniatinfr  ;  the  tone. 
determined  and  decisive  ;  and  the  scntinier.t  thev 
mean  to  convey,  s-;o  clearly  expressed,  that  i\\<j-j 
arc  never  mis'inderstood.  An  hii^tcjiian  \\ho 
was  present  at:  several  ol'  their  conlerenees  \\i;h 
the  English,  gives  this  account  of  the  a])!Tar- 
e    and  manners  of  their    orators,    *'  Tiieii- 


'  I  o  r»  /-> 


Speakers  deliver  tlien.selveswith  sun;ribina:lbrci.'. 
i\\\(\  great  projiriety  of  gesture.  Tiie  fiereeiicss 
of  tlieir  countenances,  the  ilowins*  blanket,  eir- 
vated  tone,  naked  arm,  and  erect  stature,  witli  a 
half  circle  of  auditors  seated  on  the  ground,  and 
in  the  open  air,  cannot  but  impress  iiron  tlv:; 
i!ilnd,  a  lively  idea  of  the  ancient  orjitors  ef 
Greece  a.id  Rcmie."*  Some  of  their  speech:;; 
in  manliness  of  sentiment,  in  the  force  of  ex- 
pression, and  in  the  elegance  of  the  arrangement; 
have  been  fully  equal  to  the  productions  of  tb.e 
Grecijn,  Roman,  or  British  eloquence.  And  in 
no  case  does  lanicuaL^c  accuiire  such  force  and 
vigour,  as  when  it  is  the  dictate  of  the  pas;-:ions 
and  feelinps  of  nature,  in  her  rude  and  unculti- 
vated  state. 

It  u-as  by  the  combination  of  these  virtues 
and  abilities,  that  the  savage  rose  to  inibllc  ho'i- 
ours,  cmDlcvment,  and  disiinclion.     Tlie  brr.v- 


•  SniLrU's  Hjst.tif  N«wvotk.  p.  :i. 


^■. 


IliSTOUY   OV  VERMONT.      205 

t  ,t  "ncl  the  wisest  became  the  leader,  and  tlie 
saclitm.  No  oilier  arts  eoiiUl  secure  the  pub- 
lic csLceni  and  favour,  but  superior  Silities  and 
i::pioils.  The  ancients  generally  numbered 
L'ood  lorauic,  ar.iong  the  most  necessary  qualifi- 
cii'Jons  of  their  heroes.  The  Indians  adopted 
this  idea  in  its  lull  Ibice,  and  extent.  Without 
dliliii.^uished  bra\ery  and  success,  the  private 
man  u as  never  promoted  at  all  :  If  he  ])ro\ed 
iiii  unfortunate  and  unsuccessful  leader,  he  soon 
lost  all  his  iiiliucnce  and  reputation. 

IN  these  m.axims  and  customs  of  the  savaf^c 
state,  there  were  constant  and  powerful  motives, 
to  the  exertion  of  all  their  political  talents  and 
virtues  :  And  there  was  much  less  intrigue  and 
corrupiion  in  those  public  jiroceedings,  which 
related  to  their  own  tiibe,  than  there  generally 
is  in  the  transacticns  of  civilized  societies. 

Favourable  to  the  Exercise  of  soiAie 
Virtues.  Several  of  the  vices  that  prevail  a- 
mong  polished  nations,  were  seldom  to  be  found 
amor.g  the  Indians  ;  and  there  were  some  vir- 
tues, to  I  he  exercise  of  which,  the  savage  state 
was  not  iiafriendl}'.  The  hospitality  which  the 
ancients  celebrated  so  much,  was  of  great  im- 
porMnce  and  use  in  the  early  stages  of  society. 
When  the  stranger  and  traveller  could  find  no 
accommodation  or  protection,  but  in  the  kind- 
ness of  those  on  whom  he  called  for  relief,  hos- 
pitality became  a  virtue  of  the  highest  use  and 
excellency  :  the  business  and  convenience  of 
life,  could  not  have  been  easily  carried  on  with- 
out it.  As  society  became  improved,  the  stran- 
ger found  in  the  protection  of  laws,  and  in  the 
use  of  money,  that  relief,  wliich  he  before  de- 


I)  i  ■  V 


I 

} 


■,VfK 


.1) 


J. 


,!r 


I 


I , 


•!         ':'-'l 


I    i     1    '' 


tl    ) 


( 


;..: ;!. 


'•I 


'■  h\ 


4 '  •«' 


'  1 


204 


NATURAL    AND  CIVIL 


1 ' 


■  P^  m 


n'  ,. 


I  'I' I 


i  i 


;'.l'.   ■'{ 


rived  from  the  hospitality  of  tlic  ap;e.  In  pol. 
ished  nations,  the  necessity  and  the  existence  ol" 
this  virtue,  have  in  a  great  measure  ceased. 
Among  the  sava.^es  it  prevailed  to  an  hig-ii  dc 
gree,  and  acted  with  it'j  lull  force.  The  Euro- 
peans every  where  found  tlic  most  friendly  uiid 
cordial  reception,  when  they  first  came  amon^ 
the  savages  ;  and  from  their  hospitality,  they 
derived  all  the  assistance  the  savag-es  could  af- 
ford them.  It  was  not  until  disputes  and  dif- 
ferences had  taken  place,  that  the  Indians  be- 
came  unfriendlv.  K\cn  now,  an  unarmed  dc- 
fenceless  stranj;-er,  that  repairs  to  them  for  re- 
lief and  protection,  is  su  ;c  to  find  safety  and  as- 
sistance in  their  hospitality.  The  friendship  of 
the  Indian,  is  always  a  very  strong  and  vigorous 
affection.  His  passions  unsubdued,  undisci- 
plined, and  u!\c;ovcrned,  always  act  with  great 
force  and  vigour  :  V/liatcvcr  be  the  object  of 
them,  the  passion  itself  is  always  impetuous  and 
strong.  No  bounds  are  set  to  his  resentment 
and  revenge,  when  injured  ;  and  no  length  of 
time,  will  obliterate  tlie  memorv  of  a  favour. 
The  same  impetuosity  and  perseverance,  with 
which  he  pursues  his  enemy,  is  employed  to  as- 
sist and  preserve  his  friend.  In  this  respect, 
the  Indian  attachments  have  fully  equalled  any 
thing  that  is  to  be  found,  in  the  history  of  man. 
Several  of  their  best  concerted  expeditions  have 
failed,  through  the  anxietv  of  an  individual  to 
preserve  a  friend  from  the  common  vengeance 
and  destruction. 

Trained  up  to  the  most  refined  cunning 
and  dissimulation  in  war,  the  Indian  carries 
nothing  of  this  into  the  affairs  of  commerce  ; 


!' 


^ 


HISTORY  OF   VEFMONT       205 

but  is  fair,  open,  and  honest  in  his  trade  IT 
was  accustomed  to  no  falsehood  or  deception 
in  tlie  management  of  his  barter.  And  he  wj»n 
astonished  at  the  deceit,  knaverv,  and  fraud  of 
tlic  Enroi)ean  traders.  He  liad  no  l^olts  or 
locks  to  [j;uard  against  stealing,  nor  did  he  ever 
conceive  his  property  was  in  any  danger  of  be- 
ing stolen,  by  any  of  his  tribe.  All  that  train 
of  infamous  and  unmanly  vices,  ^vhich  arise 
from  avarice,  were  almost  unknown  to  the  sav- 
I'ge  state.  Lying  and  falsehood  were  viewcc? 
with  horror,  and  detestation.  When  they  found 
these  vices  common  among  some  of  the  Euro- 
peans, the  Indians  viewed  them  as  a  corrupt 
and  odious  race  ;  in  whose  truth,  justice,  and 
declarations,  no  faith  could  be  placed.  They 
had  no  name  for  adultery,  or  rape.  Quarrelling, 
contention,  and  discord,  with  their  numerous  ill 
efi'ccts,  were  but  little  known  among  the  mem- 
bers of  the  same  tribe. 

Their  morality,  confined  to  a  few  objects^ 
admitted  of  fewer  vices  than  the  civilized  state. 
Where  no  wants  are  known  but  those  of  nature, 
and  the  way  to  supply  those  wants  is  the  same, 
and  open  to  all  ;  the  individuals  of  the  same  so- 
ciety, will  live  in  a  friendly  and  cordial  manner 
together  ;  without  many  grounds  of  strife,  and 
without  much  temptation  to  injure  each  other. 
In  the  language  of  the  Indians,  this  is  denomi- 
nated a  state  of  brotherhood  :  In  this  state,  the 
moral  sense  will  join  its  influence  with  the  so- 
cial afl'ccllons,  to  prevent  injuries,  evils,  and  vi- 
ces J  and  to  restrain  the  members  of  the  tribe, 
ii-om  violating  the  rules  of  morality.  As  such 
a  state  doeb  not^idmit  of  many  of  the  viitues  of 

VOL.    I, 


2 


ifi 


•I 


'I  'I 


I" 


I 


i(, 


f-|ii 


hi. 


I 


1   K 

!       I' 


1       ' 

I'  i; 


I 
I 


f"  • 


i  m 


,!    /I 


'    1 


f|,:! 


'i-'i 


'i    I!' 


f',^i 


I, 


Ltffej" ''«'    ■     •-■BaK- 


:20o 


NATUHAL   AMD  CIVIL 


,1 


I 


■  'iri 


I    i' 


.NP,:, 


civilized  nations,  it  is  also  in  a  great  mcasurt 
free,  from  iiuiny  of  their  most  dangerous  vices. 

In  snch  respects,  the  sa\agc  state  stems  to 
have  had  adviiutnj^es  peculiar  to  iisell' ;  and  to 
have  ]M'odiiccd  etlccts,  which  arc  not  to  be  ex. 
pected  amoHL;-  ci^  iiized  Udtions.  But  belbre  we 
decide  on  its  operation  and  tendency,  it  nill  be 
necessary  to  examine  the  di^adravtageSy  to  which 
it  is  subject  ;  w  ilh  their  influence,  and  eftcct  on 
society. 

Thk   Sava(;e    statr    unfavorable    to 

ALL     InTELLF.CT'J  AL      Im  I'll  0  V  EMJl  N  TS.         As 

one  disadvantage  of  the  sa\a«.^c  state,  it  has  con- 
stantly proved  nnf'avouriibic  to  all  intellectual 
improvements  and  exertion:;.  Occupied  solely 
with  hunting  and  war,  the  s,ava<:j;c  had  no  idea 
or  wish  for  anv  intellectual  attainment,  which 
Avas  not  immediately  connected  wid\  his  favour- 
ite professions.  Neither  his  reason,  nor  his  in- 
vention, appear  to  have  been  much  exercised 
upon  any  objee*-,  not  suf^gcsted  by  his  necessi- 
ties.  Takin!:;^  tlic  ,qame,  and  subduing  his  ene- 
my, did  not  depend  on  the  knowledge  of  letters. 
The  transactions  of  his  ancestors,  were  not  of 
much  importance  to  him  :  He  had  no  code  of 
laws,  no  evidences  of  propcrt}-,  or  any  public 
transactions  to  be  recorded.  With  these  arts, 
of  so  much  importance  to  civilized  nations,  but 
of  little  consequence  to  the  Indians,  they  were 
wholly  unacquainted  ;  and  had  not  made  any 
advance  towards  the  discovA'}'  of  letters.  The 
only  thing  whieh  they  appeared  anxious  to  re- 
cord, was  the  exploits  of  their  warriore.  When 
a  party  of  these  had  met  with  uncommon  suc- 
cess, it  was  often  the  case  tliat  they  made  some 


A  \ 


\A 


••   ill 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        207 

rcrv  rough  figures  or  inscriptions  ui)on  the  trees, 
to  represent  the  direction  of  their  nuircli,  the 
nunil)er  of  enemies  which  they  luid  slain,  and 
taken  CiipiJve.*  These  kind  of  inscription* 
"ivcrc  sometimes  made  upon  the  rocks  ;  but 
they  were  not  confined  to  the  afi'airs  of  war.  At 
West  river  in  this  st^te,  near  its  entrance  into 
Connecticut  river,  several  of  tlicsc  inscription* 
yet  remain.  They  are  irreguUrly  placed,  and 
rudely  scratched  upon  a  rock,  and  hut  little 
sunk  below  its  surface.  lour  of  them  seem 
designed  to  represent  the  Mild  duck,  and  the 
fifth  was  ]5robably  designed  for  a  fox  or  wolf. 
At  Bellow's  falls  in  Rockingham  there  arc  seve- 
ral figures  of  a  suj)erior  work.  They  amount 
to  ten  or  twelve  in  number,  and  arc  w  rought  into 
the  surface  of  the  rock.  These  inscriptions 
represent  a  number  of  heads  ;  Lomc  of  men, 
some  of  women,  some  of  children,  and  some  of 
other  animals,  'i'he  outlines  of  these  iigure?,. 
are  aukward  and  ill  executed,  but  they  are  sunk 
into  the  rock  at  least  ©no  third  of  an  inch  in 
depth.  How  long  they  have  been  there,  or 
what  transactions  they  were  intended  to  repre. 
scut,  no  tradition  gives  us  any  account  ;  but 
their  rudeness  and  awkwardness  denote  that  the 
formers  of  them  were  at  a  great  remove  from 
the  knowledge  of  any  alphabet.  I'he  art  of 
•umbering  and  computation,  is  an  elementary 
and  essential  art  in  every  nation  where  business 
is  transacied,  or  any  considerable  intercourse 
and  commerce  is  carried  on.  But  the  savage 
had  nothing  to  number,  tliat  was  of  much  im 

•  Sir  W.John$«n'««c«««m;  Pkil.  Tran«.  Vol,  LXFIT.  paff  14?, 


ill'    f 


li 


;  I 


n. 


I.' 


S' 


I  : 


.h 


!.' 


'  VI 


'20S 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


r 


li  ^ 


h  ■  I 


:  I 


■II!  I, 


portancc  to  him.  He  had  no  treasures  to  count  j 
no  property,  the  value  of  Avhich,  was  to  be  com- 
puted ;  nor  any  variety  of  objects,  the  number 
and  vahie  of  ^\  hich,  must  be  expressed  by  fig, 
ures.  Arithmetic  would  therefore  have  been 
an  useless  art  to  the  Indian  ;  and  he  had  not 
made  any  attempt  to  attain  it.  They  could 
count  as  far  as  ten  or  twenty  ;  all  beyond  this^ 
was  compared  to  the  number  of  tl^e  trees,  or 
the  hair  on  their  heads.  The  only  objects,  on 
which  the  Indian  had  employe d  Jvis  reason,  were 
those  of  external  sense  ;  such  as  are  material  or 
cor])oral,  the  idea  of  \\hich  is  received  by  the 
senses.  They  had  no  name  for  any  of  the  sci- 
ences, or  for  abstract  and  universal  ideas. 
Time,  space,  duration,  substance,  and  «^.ll  those 
terms,  M'hicii  are  used  to  represent  abstract  and 
universal  ideas,  appear  to  have  been  unknowji  ; 
and  probably  never  were  the  o])jects  of  their  in- 
quiry, contemplation,  or  tl^.ouglit. 

The  ideas  of  religion,  were  extremely  weak 
and  obscure  in  the  sava^'c.  Our  Maker  has 
not  left  us  to  a  course  of  metaphysical  reasoning 
upon  the  connexion  between  cause  and  ePtect, 
to  come  to  the  knowledf2:c  of  his  existence. 
Long  before  men  become  capable  of  such  ex- 
ercises of  the  reasoning  powers,  they  believe  in 
the  existence  of  a  Deity.  A  sense  of  his  being, 
seems  to  be  inscribed  upon  the  human  mind. 
And  probably  no  tribe  has  ever  been  found, 
that  had  not  the  idea  of  some  superior  poANerlul 
being.  Whether  this  was  the  object  of  fear,  or 
of  love,  or  however  it  wds  represented,  the  idea 
of  a  superior  being  seems  to  have  been  common, 
^nd  general  among  all  nations.     It  takes  place 


HISTORY  OF  \  ERMOXT.        209 

in  tlie  mind,  before  we  are  capable  of  reasoning 
about  cause  and  effect  :  And  ii  seems  to  be  de- 
rived from  a  revelation,  which  the  Deity  hath 
made  of  himself  to  man.  In  the  constitution  of 
the  human  mind,  in  its  feelings,  passions  and 
motions,  a  sense  of  the  Deity  seems  to  be  in- 
terwoven, instamped,  and  inscribed.  And  this 
revelation  becomes  more  clear,  plain,  and  iatel- 
Ijf^ible,  according'  to  the  manner  and  degree  in 
which  it  is  improved.  Among  the  Indians,  it 
appeared  in  its  weakest  and  most  obscure  state. 
They  denominated  the  Deity,  the  Great  Spirit, 
the  Great  Alan  above  ;  and  seemed  to  have 
some  general,  but  very  obscure  ideas  of  his 
government,  providence,  universal  power,  and 
dominion. 

The  immortality  of  the  soul,  was  every 
where  admitted  among  the  Indian  tril^es.  The 
sentiment  itself  results  from  our  fears,  hopes, 
and  feelings.  Man  is  scarcely  ever  degraded 
and  sunk  so  low,  but  that  he  hopes  and  believes 
that  death  will  not  prove  the  extinction  of  his 
being.  This  sentiment  prevailed  in  every  part 
of  America,  The  Indians  so  firmly  believed  it, 
that  it  was  their  general  custom  to  bury  with 
the  dead,  their  bows,  their  arrows,  their  spears, 
and  some  venison,  that  they  might  not  be  whol- 
ly unprepared  to  begin  their  course  w'ith  advan- 
tage, in  another  state.  There  might  be  a  few 
exceptions,  but  the  general  sentiment  was  near- 
ly the  same  in  ever}'  part  of  the  continent. 

But  both  these  sentiments,  the  existence  of 
a  God,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  were 
nothing  more  in  the  savage,  than  the  dictate»and 
VQice  of  nature.     They  were  not  the  object  of 


lii 


;]     !i: 


(  i'i 


■   I ' 


i  t 


iu 


If 

'ii;:  J 


■*  i 


:y        i 


!'     -i 


,  'i 


510 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


.1   1 ' 


•I 


'   'if 


--  ';■   MM 


his  inquiry,  discourse,  reasoning,  or  contempla- 
tion. The  Indians  had  made  no  improvements, 
no  cultivation  of  the  j^ifts  of  nature  and  provi- 
dence  ;  and  they  had  ver)^  little  influence  on  any 
part  of  his  conduct.  They  had  not  produced 
any  domestic,  or  public  devotion  ;  any  form, 
rite,  or  mode  of  worship  ;  or  any  system  of 
manners  and  customs,  favourable  to  nationai 
virtue  and  religion.  Without  a  priest,  without 
a  temple,  sacrifice,  or  altar,  the  Indian  was  sunk 
under  the  thickest  gloom  of  ignorance,  supersti- 
tion, and  stupidity. 

His  reason,  never  employed  on  any  intcllcc 
tual  attainment  or  exertion,  he  remained  in  a 
state  of  nature  ;  wholly  unacquainted  with  eve. 
ry  thing  derived  from  the  exercise,  improve- 
ment, and  cultivation  of  the  powers  of  the  mind. 
Neither  his  reason,  or  his  desires,  ever  moved 
or  tended  towards  any  such  improvements  : 
And  so  long  as  hunting  should  have  continued 
to  be  the  mode  of  his  subsistence,  so  long  it  is 
probable,  he  would  have  remained  at  a  distance 
from  every  intellectual  attainment. 

Admits  of  but  few  Virtues.  It  was 
another  disadvantage  of  the  savage  state,  that  it 
did  not  admit  of  but  few  virtues.  The  moral 
sense,  or  conscience,  makes  part  of  our  natural 
constitution  ;  and  is  as  essential  to  man,  as  his 
appetites  and  passions,  as  his  countenance  and 
form.  When  this  is  not  corrupted  or  perverted, 
its  dictates  are  clear  and  right,  and  do  not  tend 
to  mislead  us  :  And  its  dictates  are  never  more 
clear  and  certain,  than  when  they  are  the  genu- 
ine and  simple  voice  of  nature.  There  were 
fc^ver  temptations  and  there  were  fewer  vice^  in 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        211 

the  savage  state,  to  corrupt  and  pervert  the  mo- 
ral sense,  than  there  are  in  a  polished  state  of  so- 
ciety :  But  there  were  also  fewer  motives,  oc-* 
casions,  and  opportunities  for  virtue.  Rever- 
ence and  respect  to  the  Deity,  had  little  place 
or  effect  on  the  uncultivated  mind  of  the  savage. 
There  was  nothing  in  his  situation  to  produce 
those  oflices  of  kindness,  and  tenderness,  w  hich 
soften  the  heart,  and  sweeten  the  intercourse  of 
life,  in  the  civilized  state.  The  sullen  pride  of 
independence,  was  the  strongest  passion  in  the 
heart  of  the  Indian  ;  and  it  left  but  little  room 
for  tender  and  generous  affections  to  others. 
Depending  solely  upon  himself,  the  heart  of  the 
savage  contracts  an  inscn.sibility,  an  hardness,  a 
roughness,  very  unfavorable  to  social  connex- 
ions. Expecting  no  offices  of  kindness  from 
others,  he  was  very  little  employed  in  relieving 
the  distresses,  supplying  the  wants,  or  gratifying 
the  desires  of  others.  In  a  heart  thus  contract- 
ed, but  few  virtues  will  reside.  The  natural 
affections  will  remain,  and  may  become  strong 
and  vigorous  :  But  the  divine,  social,  and  hu- 
man virtues,  find  an  unfriendly  soil  ;  become 
few  in  their  number,  and  weak  in  their  opera- 
tion. 

No  Attainment  in  the  Arts.  Those 
arts,  which  are  the  most  necessary  and  useful  to 
men  in  the  civil  state,  were  almost  wholly  un- 
known among  the  savages.  To  provide  a  cov- 
ering to  defend  the  body  against  heat,  cold,  and 
moisture,  is  one  of  the  first  arts  that  man  must 
liuve  attended  to.  The  Indian  had  gone  no  fur- 
ther in  this  primary  and  essential  iirt,  than  to 
iipply  the  skins  and  furs  uf  animals  to  this  pur- 


i'l 


t.'i,:r 


f 


A 


:l      , 


!!■ 


pi. 


"i        i 


11, 


M 


■  1 


212        NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


,1    .  t 


I, 


I  ! 


ri 


jil,)|; 


pose.  The  ait  of  spinning-,  knitting,  one!  wcav* 
iiig,  were  wholly  unknown  to  the  northern  In. 
dians.  They  h;id  no  other  materials  to  cowr 
and  clothe  their  bodies,  tJian  what  M-cre  derl\cd 
from  hunting.  '^  rcliitccture  of  son(e  kind  and 
form,  must  unavoidably  eng.ige  the  atteivdoa  ol' 
men,  in  every  climate  and  country.  TIic  at- 
tainments of  the  Indians  in  this  art,  were  the 
lowest  that  can  be  conceived.  Tiieir  buildings 
were  nothing  more  than  a  i'cw  temporary  and 
wretched  huts,  put  together  ndthout  order, 
strength,  or  convenience.  Some  crotc  hcd 
stakes  were  thrust  into  the  ground  :  these  were 
connected  by  poles,  laid  from  tlie  one  to  the  oth- 
er ;  and  the  whole  was  covered  \vith  the  bark, 
limbs,  and  leaves  of  the  trees.  An  aperturu 
was  left  at  the  top,  for  tlie  conveyance  of  smoke  ; 
and  the  fire  was  kindled  in  the  middle.  This 
was  called  a  cabin  or  -svigvvam,  and  was  without 
windows,  doors,  or  any  di\ision  of  apartments. 
This  was  the  highest  elegance  and  convenience, 
the  house  of  the  Indian  had  attained. 

The  progress  of  the  arts,  depends  very  raucli 
on  the  instruments  and  tools,  with  which  the 
artificers  are  furnished.  Most  of  these  among 
civilized  nations  arc  derived  from  the  applica- 
tion, and  use  of  the  metals  ;  particularly  that  of 
iron.  From  this  metal  is  formed  almost  every 
instrument,  that  is  employed  in  peace  or  in  war. 
Civilized  nations  have  availed  themselves  of  the 
discovery  and  use  of  this  metal,  in  every  kind 
of  art  that  they  pursue.  The  Indian  was  in  no 
capacity  to  arrive  to  sucli  an  improvement. 
Copper,  silver,  and  gold,  have  been  found  in 
their  perfect  state,  in  the  rocka,  mountains,  and 


*< 


I  J' 


History  of  Vermont,     lu 

rivers  ;  and  were  the  metals,  which  were  first 
kno^^ni  and  used.     But  nature  never  completes 
the  formation  of  iron.     It  must  pass  through 
two  or  three  tedious  Operations  by  fire,  before  it 
appeirs  in  its  perfect  and  useful  form.     With 
the  former  metals,  the  Indians  in  some  parts  of 
America,  were  well  acquainted  :  But  of  the  na- 
ture and  use  of  iron,  all  of  them  were  wholly 
ignorant.     Destitute  of  this  capital  advantage, 
all  their  tools  and  instruments  to  an  European^ 
Would  have  been  wholly  uselessi     Their  axi 
was  made  of  a  sharpened  stone.     Their  knife 
was  formed  out  of  a  shell,  or  bone.     Every  oth- 
er instrument  was  equally  impotent,  and  ill  con- 
trived.    The  arms  they  had  contrived  for  de- 
fence or  attack,  were  equally  feeble  and  awk- 
ward :  A  club  made  of  hard  wood,  a  stake  har- 
dened in  the  fire,  a  lance  armed  with  a  flint  or  a 
bone,  a  bow  and  an  arrow,  constituted  the  whol6 
artillery  of  an  Indian  war.     Of  domestic  utensils 
and  household  furniture,  they  had  nothing  that 
deserved  the  name.     A  bed,  a  chair,  a  table,  H 
pot,  a  kettle,  or  an  oven,  were  wholly  unknown. 
Their   bread  was  baked  on  the  coals.     Their 
meat  was  broiled  in  the  same  manner.     Their 
greatest  art  in  cookery^  was  their  method   of 
boiling  their  food.     A  piece  of  wood,  or  a  stone, 
with  extreme  labour,  was  formed  into  a  hollow, 
and  filled  w'ith  water  ;  and  this  water  was  mad© 
to  boil,  by  throwing  into  it  stones  heated  rec 
hot. 

The  greatest  performance  of  the  Indian  gen- 
ius, was  the  construction  of  his  canoe.     With 
infinite  labour,  they  sometimes  hollowed  out  a 
tree,  and  gave  it  a  form  adapted  to  the  purpos© 
vot.  It        C  3 


"J  I 


^ 


t  , 


f  /  J 


t  If.'l' 


I 

t 


\l 


I 

I- 
.1  . ' 


I   ';' 


>i 


■'M 


■IH 


<j 


g^  •.um£i-- 


I  • .  rf 


1 1 


v^ 


.  !■■         .(■  I 


ifiii 


.  '\ 


I  '     i;*. 


;) 


5*f 
■It  , 


rM|. 


514 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


!  I 


of  navigation.  In  a  canoe  thus  formed,  four  of 
five  Indians  would  pass  a  river,  a  largs  lake,  or 
a  dangerous  rapid,  with  much  safety,  and  dex- 
terity. Another  kind  of  canoe,  was  formed  out 
of  the  burk  of  tlie  ehn,  or  birch.  This  was  the 
Mork  of  but  a  few  days,  and  was  extremely 
light  and  ccn^cnieiU.  It  was  of  sufficient  di- 
mensions, to  carry  fo\ir  or  five  Indians  ;  and  so 
light,  that  one  oi'them  could  easily  carry  it  on 
his  back.  The  dexterity  of  his  manageuient, 
the  sw  iftness  of  ]:.>  voyage,  and  the  safety  w  ith 
which  the  Indians  pass  the  ialls,  rapids,  and 
waves  in  this  kind  of  boat,  has  appeared  surpri- 
sing to  those  persons,  wh.o  were  best  acquainted 
with  the  arts  of  navigation.  And  it  seems  to 
have  been  the  higliest  attainment,  to  which  the 
genius  or  invention  of  the  Indian,  had  ever 
arisen. 

In  the  application  an  1  use  of  particular  ve- 
getable, animal,  and  mineral  substances,  the  In- 
dians seem  to  have  had  some  information,  which 
ought  to  have  been  more  attended  to,  and  better 
ascertained.  They  certainly  knew  of  some 
substances,  which  gave  the  most  vivid  and  per- 
manent colours  ;  and  of  others  which  contain- 
ed the  most  subtle,  active,  and  powerful  poi- 
jfons.  In  several  cases  of  poisons,  wounds,  and 
some  other  disorders,  the  Indians  h.ad  the  knovvl- 
edge  of  very  valuable  medicines  :  And  they  de- 
rived support,  refreshment,  and  medicine,  from 
several  plants  and  vegetables,  in  which  the  Eng- 
lish had  not  discovered  any  such  virtues  or 
qualities.  The  knowledge  of  such  facts,  was 
the  result  of  such  observations,  as  experience 
-'latiirally  produced.    But  as  the  Indian  never 


',  ! 


m 


HISTORY  OF  VERiMONT. 


215 


attempted  to  improve  any  inrormation  which  ht 
had,  and  knew  of*  no  metliod  to  preserve  it  but 
tradition,  he  made  small  advances  in  this  kind 
of  knowledge  j  and  it  was  rather  a  matter  of 
secrecy,  than  of  investigation.  Nor  was  there 
any  thing  in  his  situation,  or  employment,  a- 
dapted  to  call  fortli  the  latent  po^vers  of  his 
mind,  and  to  produce  the  spirit  of  inquiry  and 
improvement. 

Very  Unfavourable  to  Population. 
A  disadvantage  still  more  unfavourable  attended 
the  savage  state,  it  tended  much  to  retard  popu- 
lation. From  the  earliest  hictories  of  Virginia, 
it  has  been  computed  that  the  number  of  In- 
dians in  that  part  of  the  continent,  did  not  a- 
raount  to  more  tlian  one  for  every  square  mile.* 
I  do  not  find  any  account,  wliich  will  lead  us  to 
estimate  the  number  of  Indians  in  New  Kng- 
land,  at  a  higher  ratio  than  this.  In  those  parts 
of  the  United  States  where  the  farms  are  well 
managed,  a  form  of  one  hundred  acres  w  ill  well  sup- 
port a  family  of  ten  persons.  This  amounts  to 
sixty  four  persons,  on  one  square  mile.  The 
Indian  population  then,  compared  to  W'hat  has 
already  taken  place  in  those  parts  of  the  United 
States,  which  are  well  settled  and  cultivated, 
was  in  no  higher  a  proportion  than  one  to  sixty 
four.  A  difference  so  unfavourable  to  the  pro- 
duction  of  life,  denotes  some  essential  defect  in 
the  savage  state. 

Population  depends  upon  a  variety  of  cir- 
cumstances, all  of  which  are  never  found  to 
concur,  in  favour  of  any  people.     In  the  state 


•/;■; 


I 


1 1 


■'    t' 


*  Jcffierson't  NotM  on  Virgiaja;  p.  iso. 


'7 


•.,f 


216 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


h 


I  ; 


'      .1 


and  situation  of  the  Indians,  there  were  fcwci 
circumstances  favourable  to  population,  than  in 
any  other  state  of  society.  In  the  constitution, 
form,  and  vigour  of  his  body,  nature  was  boun- 
tiful to  the  Indian,  In  the  dimensions  and  size 
of  his  body,  in  the  proportion  and  perfection  of 
all  his  limbs,  members,  and  organs,  he  rather 
exceeded  than  fell  short  of  the  European.  All 
that  have  been  acquainted  with  the  savages, 
have  been  struck  with  this  circumstance.  In 
no  race  of  men,  has  the  human  body  appeared 
to  be  better  formed,  more  nicely  adjusted,  or  to 
be  more  perfectly  proportioned  in  all  its  mem- 
bers and  parts.  No  deficiency  therefore  arose 
from  any  impotency,  or  want  of  vigour,  in  any 
of  the  powers  of  nature. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  original  powers  of 
nature,  they  are  weakened  and  impaired  without 
proper  food,  and  nourishment  :  And  it  is  only, 
where  suitable  and  nutritive  food  is  to  be  ob- 
tained in  regular  and  suiTicient  quantities,  that 
animals  will  become  the  most  prolific.  In  this 
respect,  the  situation  and  state  of  the  savage, 
was  greatly  unfavourable  to  increase  and  popu 
lation.  Destitute  of  any  certain  or  regular  food 
and  nourishment,  the  Indians  suffered  severely 
this  way.  At  one  period,  all  was  gluttony  and 
excess  ;  at  another,  famine  and  hunger  became 
extreme  and  distressing.  The  heaviest  part  of 
this  distress  fell  upon  the  women,  who  were  the 
least  able  to  bear  it  :  And  at  no  time  did  they 
enjoy  that  regular  and  steady  supply  of  food, 
which  nature  required.  In  the  male,  this  tend- 
ed to  impair  the  animal  passion  :  In  the  female, 
^t  tended  not  only  to  weaken  it,  b^t  tp  render  it, 


V 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONt.        217 

greatly  dangerous  to  indulge  it.  Its  effects  were 
still  worse  upon  the  pregnant  ;  and  often  de- 
stroyed the  increase  and  IVuit  of  nature,  before 
the  birth 

The  manner  in  which  the  Indians  procured 
their  food,  was  equally  unfavourable  to  popula- 
tion, as  the  uncertainty  and  irregularity  of  it. 
Destitute  of  a  fixed  settlement  and  abode,  the 
savage  spent  the  hunting  season  in  wandering 
through  the  forests  in  quest  of  game,  and  gener- 
ally carried  his  family  with  him.  Their  women, 
must  climb  the  mountains,  wade  through  the 
rivers,  force  their  way  in  the  thickets  of  the 
forest,  sleep  upon  the  wet  ground  in  the  open 
air,  and  carry  their  children  with  them  ;  and  a- 
niidst  all  these  fatigues  and  distresses,  were  of- 
ten without  food  for  several  days,  and  always 
without  comfortable  refreshment.  Instead  of 
being  in  any  degree  prolific,  the  white  women 
would  have  all  perished  in  such  a  situation. 
The  wonder  is,  not  why  population  should  have 
been  so  small,  but  how  it  should  subsist  at  all, 
in  such  a  situation.  If  the  constitution  of  the 
savage  had  not  been  uncommonly  strong  and 
vigorous,  not  only  the  animal  passion,  but  all 
the  powers  of  nature  would  have  ceased  and 
become  extinct,  by  such  continued  scenes  of 
fatigue  and  distress. 

The  constancy  and  perpetuity  of  their  wars, 
had  also  a  fatal  influence  on  population.  The 
irruption  of  an  enemy  desolated  their  cultivated 
lands,  disturbed  them  in  their  hunting  exer- 
tions, and  destroyed  all  the  little  stock  of  provi- 
sions they  had  saved.  The  women  and  chil- 
^en  had  no  place  of  refuge,  but  to  cojicea! 


I       1  r 


)] 


i\ 


'i 


I  > 


:!    '       ( 


1' 


.{ 


•'.  .i-r 


fi. 


■   5  • 


.     t> 


:,!- . ! 


5218 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I. 


1 1 


:  >      i 


1:1 


wri 


tlicmsclvcs  in  the  woods,  and  mouiitaiiis  ;  wlicr* 
niaay  of  tlirm  must  perish  lor  want  of  lb(x), 
iind  all  o!'  them  niu.'^t  be  in  a  buflcriiip;  and  uib- 
trcsscd  condilion.  In  the  wliolc  cat.>l(jj.>;ue  of 
human  woes,  it  is  not  po^^siljle  to  conceive  of 
any  state  more  disti'Cssing',  than  that  of  a  preg- 
nant woman,  in  a  bitnation  su  liorrid  ar.d  a\\  ful. 
^Jan\'  of  them  lived,  and  broiiglit  foilli  the  IViiit 
of  nature,  aiVildst  this  complication  oi'  miseries. 
But  tlic  preservation  of  tiic  moUier  and  child 
a[jproaclu  d  nearer  to  the  natui-e  of  a  miracle, 
tlian  to  what  is  esteemed  the  cfilct  of  the  estab- 
lished and  rci^ular  laws  of  nature,  in  the  civiliz- 
ed state.  While  their  ^vars  had  this  fatal  ten- 
dency to  prevent  the  increase,  tliey  operated 
^vith  a  force  equally  fatal,  to  destroy  and  s'.\eep 
off  those  that  w ere  the  most  vin-orous  and  acti\e. 
Revenge,  destruction,  tlie  utter  extermination  of 
an  enemy,  was  the  object  aimed  at  in  an  Indiim 
war  :  And  while  it  was  carried  on,  it  operated 
and  raged  with  a  fatal  and  a  certain  tendency, 
to  effect  its  design,  aim,  and  end. 

O THE  II  causes  ndght  be  found,  in  the  cus- 
toms, manners,  and  maxims  of  the  savages, 
w^hich  were  also  unfavourable  to  increase  and 
multiplication  ;  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  enu- 
merate every  particular,  that  would  apply  to  this 
subject.  The  circumstances  which  ha\e  been 
mentioned,  are  sufficient  to  account  for  all  that 
has  been  unconniion,  in  the  defect  of  Indian 
population.  That  these  circumstances,  do  in 
fact  contain  the  causes,  which  rendered  the 
population  so  small  among  the  savages,  is  con- 
firmed from  this  additional  evidence.  Wher- 
ever ttic  indianb  have  been  placed  in  a  situation 


•I      I' 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.      2 It) 

favourable  to  Increase,  they  have  become  equal- 
ly prolific  as  the  descendants  of  Europe.  Seve- 
ral of  the  traders  anioni;  the  Indian  tribes,  have 
married  with  their  women  :  When  the  Indian 
women  have  l)cen  thus  provided  with  comfort- 
able fond,  raiment,  and  places  of  ai)odc,  and  re- 
lieved from  the  ialifpics  and  distresses  of  the 
3ava.G;e  sMtc,  tliey  have  raised  up  as  lar^^e  and 
miinerous  families,  as  are  found  in  the  houses 
of  the  white  people.  And  amoni^'  themselves, 
when  a  tribe  was  situated  on  the  bank  of  a  riv- 
er ahoundint^  with  fish,  or  in  a  sjjot  where  tlic 
l?;aiTic  was  plenty,  and  they  remained  undisturb- 
ed by  their  enemies  ;  their  numbers  soon  In- 
creased, their  Avomen  became  more  valued  and 
esieemed,  and  population  assumed  a  greater 
force  and  vigour. 

In   some  parts  of  America,  the  Indians  had 
advanced  beyond  the  savage  state,  and  acquired 
some  of  the  arts  and  conveniences  of  the  civil 
state.     In  such  places,   the   same   increase   of 
numbers  took  place  among  them,  that  is  seen 
among  other  nations.     The  intercourse  between 
the  sexes  approached  nearer  to  delicacy  and  re- 
finement.    Greater  attention   was  paid   to  the 
women.     The  men  became  sensible,  how  much 
their  happiness  might  be  promoted,  by  the  at- 
tachment and  tenderness  of  the  female.     In  the 
empires  of  Peru  and  Mexico,  the  Indians  had 
made  considerable  advances  to  such  a  state  : 
And  their  population  had  become  vigorous  and 
rapid.     Their  numbers  resembled  the  appear- 
ance of  things  in  Europe  ;  and  their  cities  a- 
hounded    with    Inhabitants.      Sixty   thousand 
families,  were  said  by  Cortez,  to  be  contained 


M<i 


I 


M 


J      ! 


1   'i 


.  f! 


;h 


■i\\' 


.If 


^ 


320 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


i  1 


I,..,; 


((' 


.'  J'  - 


'r  'till 


U'   : 


in  the  city  of  Mexico,  wlxii  he  led  Mb  Ixmd  n| 
ruffians  against  it.  Fron^  these  cftects  vvc  may 
determine  with  certainty,  that  the  defect  in  the 
Indian  po])uhition,  was  not  derived  from  any 
MTakness,  inipotenc} ,  degradation,  or  defect  of 
iKiture  ;  but  arose  from  a  situation,  in  which 
every  circumstance  was  unfriendly  to  increase, 
and  multiplication. 

From  the  beardless  countenance,  and  inat- 
tcntion  of  the  Indian  to  the  female,  some  philo- 
sophers of  great  eminence  and  abilities,  have 
formed  the  most  extravagant  systems  and  theo- 
ries. One  has  asserted  that  the  Indian  of  A- 
merica  has  an  inferior  constitution  to  the  Euro- 
pean ;  that  he  is  weak,  and  deficient  in  the  or- 
gans of  generation  ;  without  ardour,  and  impo- 
tent with  the  female  ;  and  destitute  of  natural 
affections  to  his  wife  and  children.*  Another 
is  positive  that  he  is  not  descended  from  the 
common  parents  of  the  v/hites,  but  is  a  distinct, 
separate,  and  inferior  order  of  men  to  them  ;  of 
a  different  original,  and  species. f  And  it  seems 
to  be  generally  asserted  and  believed,  by  the 
historians  M'ho  have  quoted  these  accounts,  that 
the  man  of  America  v/as  of  less  force,  energy, 
and  vigour,  than  the  man  of  Europe  ;  and  la- 
boured under  some  physical  defect,  or  degrada- 
tion. 

The  clearest  proof,  and  the  most  Unexcep- 
tionable evidence,  ought  to  have  been  produced, 
before  a  philosopher  admitted  as  facts,  things 
so  repugnant  to  the  general  principles  and  laws 
of  nature.     Had  this  been  attempted,  it  would 


M.  de  BufTon,  xviii.  146. 

Kainu'  SkctobM  Hiit.  of  Man,  Val.  I.  Skttoh  I.  V»L  IH.  Sketch  W 


History  of  Vermont.     221 

have  corrected  the  error  ;  for  the  facts  are  all 
in  opposition,  to  what  has  been  no  often  assert- 
ed, and  quoted.  No  such  animil  was  ever  seen 
ill  America,  as  the  Indian  M.  de  Buffon  describ- 
ed in  Paris.  If  the  facts  had  been  true,  the 
conclusions  which  have  been  drawn  from  themj 
♦vould  have  been  wholly  uncertain.  The  want 
of  a  beard  would  have  been  no  proof,  that  the 
Indians  were  incapable  of  population  :  And  tie 
ivant  of  that  excessive  licentious  ardour,  with 
which  the  nogro  and  the  libertine  glows,  is  in 
no  degree  unfriendly  to  population.  Every 
passion  carried  to  excess,  tends  to  weaiten  and 
enervate  the  whole  animal  frame.  In  obedience 
to  that  temperance,  purity,  and  regularity,  which 
nature  enjoins  and  requires,  are  we  to  look  for 
the  effects,  which  nature  designs.  But  the  ar- 
dour produced  by  luxury,  intemperance,  and 
excess,  weakens  its  own  powers,  defeats  its  end, 
and  destroys  its  purpose  :  Instead  of  proving 
favourable  to  population,  it  tends  to  weakness, 
impotcncy,  and  the  loss  of  manhood.  Is  it  not 
surprising,  that  philosophers  who  had  seen  the 
debilitating  and  degrading  effects,  which  luxury, 
intemperance,  and  excels,  are  constantly  pro- 
ducing in  the  populous  cities  of  Europe  ;  sliould 
view  the  unnatural  ardour  they  create,  in  any 
other,  than  an  unfavourable  light  ?  Or  suspect 
the  Indian  was  inferior  by  nature  to  the  Euro- 
pean, because  he  did  not  appear  to  be  governed 
by  that  unnatural  ardour,  which  never  fails  to 
debilitate  all  the  powers  of  nature  ^  And  which 
often  ends,  in  the  most  emaciated  and  degraded 
state,  to  which  man  can  be  reduced  ?  Happily 
for  liimself,  the  Indian  was  without  this  ujinatvi- 
voL.  I.        D  2 


i 


1 1 


1; 


i!" 


1:1 


«  ii 


.uin 


w- 


r    ■' 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


^J^ 


■b  '  -  'Mi 


\ 


k  k 


>' 


1.(1  J 


vu 


ral  ardour.  Had  it  been  added  to  the  other  un- 
fortunate circumstances  attending  his  situation, 
it  would  have  gone  far  to  have  destroyed  the 
whole  race. 

Averse  to  all  Improvements.  The 
most  fatal  circumstance  of  all,  was,  the  savage 
state  was  extremely  averse  and  opposed  to  all 
improvements.  It  is  with  a  benevolent  design, 
that  nature  reconciles  and  conciliates  the  mind 
of  man,  to  that  state  in  which  it  is  placed.  At 
the  same  time,  it  has  made  us  capable  of  con- 
tinual advance  and  progression,  to  greater  im- 
provements and  perfection.  So  attached  was 
the  savage  to  the  former,  that  he  had  no  wish 
or  desire  of  the  latter.  Content  and  satisfied 
with  his  own  state,  he  had  no  wish,  hope,  or 
conception,  that  it  c®uld  be  changed  for  a  bet- 
ter. Accustomed  to  the  most  perfect  freedom 
and  independence,  he  beheld  with  detestation, 
the  inequality  of  rank,  and  the  subordination 
established  among*  tlie  Europeans.  Free  from 
all  care,  and  without  foresight,  he  was  amazed 
at  the  anxiety,  the  care,  and  perpetual  industry 
of  the  white  people  :  And  could  not  conceive 
why  they  should  be  thus  perpetually  adding 
hard  labour,  to  the  other  calamities  of  life.  The 
constant  scenes  of  hurry,  care,  and  business,  in 
which  they  were  employed,  were  objects  averse 
to  all  their  feelings  and  wishes  :  And  yvhat  they 
viewed  as  the  most  degraded  condition,  to  which 
man  could  be  reduced,  was  the  business  of  ag-^ 
riculture,  digging  and  labouring  in  the  earth. 
The  weapons  of  the  Europeans  appeared  useful 
to  them,  and  these  they  were  at  much  pains  to 
acquire.    But  most  of  their  arts,  customs,  and 


II 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


322 


manners,  were  greatly  disagreeable  to  men,  ac- 
customed only  to  the  business  of  hunting  and 
fighting.  Men  thus  satisfied  with  their  own 
condition,  and  averse  to  that  of  others,  could 
not  be  brought,  but  with  great  difficulty,  to  ad* 
mit  the  improvements  of  the  civilized  life  ;  or 
to  give  up  that  independence,  which  they  es- 
teemed the  highest  distinction,  and  the  greatest 
glory  of  man. 

The  appetite  for  tlie  hunter's  state,  is  one  of 
the  most  general  and  powerful,  that  prevails  in 
any  period  of  society.  Men  never  quit  this 
state,  until  it  becomes  inadequate  to  their  sub- 
sistence and  support.  It  is  in  hunting  and  in 
fishing,  not  in  agriculture  and  the  arts,  that  the 
indolent  and  wealthy  in  the  most  polished  na- 
tions, find  their  favourite  amusement  and  exer- 
cise. The  children  of  the  white  people,  when 
carried  among  the  savages  in  early  life,  have  of- 
ten contracted  such  an  attachment  to  that  state, 
that  they  could  not  be  persuaded  to  return,  and 
reside  among  their  friends.  But  nothing  can 
reconcile  the  children  of  the  Indians,  to  the  cus- 
toms, manners,  and  methods  of  living  among 
the  Europeans  :  However  caressed  and  indulg- 
ed, they  droop  and  languish,  until  they  return 
to  the  freedom  and  wildness  of  the  forest. 

Nor  was  there  any  thing  in  the  savage  state, 
that  could  refine  or  improve  itself.  While  the 
game  continued,  the  same  method  of  living 
would  have  remained  :  And  this  would  natural- 
ly have  continued  all  the  disadvantages,  and 
habits  of  the  savage  state.  The  same  method 
of  support,  would  have  perpetuated  the  same 
manners,    maxims,    and    customs.      Nothing 


ii 


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'M 


I 


n 


ft}   ! 


\\ 


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■t 


!      I,', 
i         I 


I  ■  »  • 


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t 


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^24 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


would  have  led  a  people  in  such  a  situation,  to 
^ny  improvements,  until  necessity  should  have 
introduced  agriculture  ;  and  forced  them  to  be. 
come  husbandmen,  instead  of  remaining  hun- 
ters. 

Such  were  the  disadvantages  attending  the 
savage  state.  I'hey  appear  to  have  been  in- 
separably connected  with  it  :  And  of  such  a 
nature,  as  to  prevent  the  improvement,  progress, 
or  increase  of  society.  We  n^ed  not  hesitate 
to  pronounce,  that  these  disadvantages  far  ex- 
ceeded any  advantages  that  could  attend  it  ; 
and  operated  with  a  certain  and  fatal  tendency, 
to  continue  man  in  a  state  of  infancy,  weakness, 
and  the  greatest  imperfection.  The  freedom  to 
"which  it  Iqd,  was  its  greatest  blessing  ;  but  the 
jindependence  of  which  the  savage  was  so  fond,  was 
never  designed  for  man  :  And  it  is  only  in  th( 
improvements  of  civil  society,  that  the  human 
Tace  can  find  the  greatest  increase  of  their  num- 
bers, knowledge,  safety,  and  happiness. 


s^ 


■m 


, , 


f, 


,>.'^     vli^^  -  . 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        22- 


CHAPTER    Vni, 

Original  Inhabitants.  Observations  on 
the  Origin  of  the  Ifidia?iSy  their  Antiquiti/f 
Progress  of  Soviet y^  aivi  Tendency  to  Dissolu- 
tion, 

THE  Man  of  America  differed  in  so 
many  respects  from  the  men  of  other  countries, 
that  it  has  been  made  a  question  among  some 
of  the  modern  philosophers,  whether  he  was 
originally  deri'ved  from  the  same  parents  as  the 
white  men  ;  or  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  dif- 
ferent race,  from  the  men  of  other  countries. 
No  inquiries  have  the  appearance  of  greater  dif- 
ficulties than  those,  which  relate  to  the  origin, 
and  antiquity  of  tlie  American  Indians.  With- 
out attempting  to  resolve  all  the  questions  that 
have  been  proposed  upon  these  subjects,  it  may 
be  of  use  to  collect  some  of  the  facts  that  seem 
to  relate  to  them,  and  to  note  the  conclusions 
to  which  they  lead, 

Origin,  In  whatever  manner-  this  part  of 
the  earth  was  peopled,  the  Indian  or  the  Red 
Man,  seems  to  have  been  the  most  ancient,  or 
the  original  man  of  America.  This  race  were 
by  far  the  most  numerous  ;  and  they  hud  spread 
over  the  whole  continent,  from  about  th^  fiftieth 
degree  of  north  latitude  to  the  southern  extremi- 
ty of  Cape  Horn.  This  vast  extent  of  country, 
including  all  the  variety  of  climates,  v.  as  sc*:  v;d 
with  the  red  men  :  And  these  mc  .  e,  >.£,'.-  ere 
appeared  to  be  the  same  race,  or  1  .  .1  ^  f  •:>  i!--;-.e. 
^|n  every  part  of  th^  continent,  the  Inuiaus  wc.^. 


\  I 


( 


si 
to 


I 


:'ti 


-. 


I 

I' 1] 

I 
1  ' 

i' ! 
I 


X\x 


:f* 


M'r 


I 


'!l 


.•  ! 


i 


;  'I 


I 


ytt*^-         j^ 


225 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


if 

ii' 


i)i7'  'k  ' 


!■ 

1      1 

1- 

1 

4' 


'■} 


marked  with  a  similarity  of  colour,  features,  and 
every  circumstance  of  external  appearance. 
Pedro  de  Cieca  de  Leon,  who  was  one  of  the 
conquerors  of  Peru,  and  had  travelled  through 
many  provinces  of  America,  gives  this  account 
of  the  inhabitants  .•  "  The  people,  men  and  wo- 
men,  although  there  is  such  a  multitude  of 
tribes  or  nations  as  to  be  almost  innumerable, 
and  such  diversity  of  climates,  appear  never  ne- 
iess  like  the  children  of  one  father  and  mother."* 
Uiloa,  an  able  philosopher,  and  an  accurate  ob- 
server, visited  and  observed  many  of  the  Indian 
tribes  and  nations,  of  South  America  :  He  ob- 
served also  the  Indians  at  Cape  Breton,  in  North 
America  ;  and  saith  of  the  latter,  that  they  were 
the  same  people  with  the  Indians  of  Peru,  re- 
sembling them  in  complexion,  in  manners,  and 
in  customs  ;  the  only  visible  difference,  being, 
that  the  Indians  at  Cape  Breton,  were  of  a  larger 
stature  than  those  at  Peru.  "  If  we  have  seen 
one  American,"  saith  he,  "  we  mav  be  said  to 
have  seen  them  all,  their  colour  and  make  are 
so  nearly  the  same."t  And  it  is  worthy  of  re- 
mark, that  no  nation  or  people  upon  the  earth, 
ever  have  spread  over  so  large  a  tract  of  coun- 
try, as  these  red  men  of  America. 

Were  these  men  the  same  people  with  the 
inhabitants  of  the  other  parts  of  the  globe  ?  Or 
did  they  radically  differ  from  the  men  of  all  oth- 
er countries  ?  1.  They  were  of  the  same  com- 
plexio7\^  with  the  most  ancient  nation  in  Asia. 
From  authentic  documents,  we  are  able  to  trace 
the  existence,  and  national  transactions  of  the 

*  Riibertjoft'*  Hi«t.  America,  Vol.  II.  p.  462.  note  4J. 
T  Vllea,  Ntti«.  Amerferanuf,  p.  30S. 


>    If  I 


,  \ 


I      i\ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       227 

Hindoos,  to  an  higher  antiquity,  than  we  can 
find  with  certainty  in  any  other  nation.  These 
were  the  Indians,  or  red  men  of  Asia.  And 
the  Indians  of  both  continents,  are  marked  with 
the  same  peculiarity  of  colour.  The  distin- 
guishing colour  of  the  Indian,  is  red,  or  rather 
a  reddish  brown  ;  resembling,  but  more  dark 
tlian  a  copper  colour.  From  this  similarity  of 
complexion,  it  is  natural  to  conjecture,  that  the 
Indian  of  Asia  and  of  America  belonged  to  the 
same  family.  2.  The  Jhatures  and  countenance 
of  the  American  Indians,  very  much  resemble 
those  of  another  of  the  nations  of  Asia,  the  Tar- 
tars- The  Tartars  join  upon  India,  arc  spread 
over  the  northern  parts  of  Asia,  and  extend  to 
the  eastern  coasts  of  the  Pacific  ocean*  Of 
their  appearance  and  countenance,  geographers 
give  us  this  account  :  *'  They  are  in  general 
strong  made,  stout  men  :  Their  faces  broad, 
their  noses  flattish,  their  eyes  small  and  black, 
but  very  quick."*  The  Indians  of  America 
are  thus  described,  by  those  who  had  lived  long 
among  them  :  "  The  limbs  are  well  turned,  the 
body  of  just  proportion,  the  countenance  broad, 
their  nose  flat,  their  eyes  black,  small,  but  capa- 
ble of  discerning  objects  at  a  great  distance.*'! 
If  these  descriptions  had  been  taken  from  the 
same  individual,  there  could  not  have  been  a 
greater  agreement,  in  every  circumstance  of  as- 
pect and  countenance. 

3.  Some  information  respecting  the  descent 
of  nations,  may  also  be  derived  from  their  cus- 
toms.    Those  customs  and  manners  which  arise 

•  Guthrie's  Gcog.  p.  660. 

f  Ulloa's  and  Pinto  «  account.    Robertaon%  Hitt.  Amer.  1,460. 


.^; 


'li: 


ii. 


;;     ( 


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1  [  " 


;ifli 


■'  T 


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::  'i 


j'    ; 


•  1*1 


\: 


11^'!* 


mm 


'U: 


]ii 


"i 


,1    ,  I. 


22R 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


V' 


^  : 


t  ir 


I'?* 


^ 


from  the  wants,  desires,  and  inclinations,  pecu- 
liar to  situation  and  employment,  will  be  the 
same  in  the  same  state  of  society.  A  hunter  in 
Asia,  and  a  hunter  in  America,  will  have  near- 
ly the  same  character,  the  same  occupations, 
pursuits,  and  manners.  But  those  customs 
which  do  not  ariae  from  situation,  or  from  any 
natural  want  or  desire,  may  be  termed  arbitrary  .* 
And  the  probability  is,  that  two  nations  would 
not  agree  in  these,  unless  they  were  derived 
from  the  one  to  the  other.  Several  of  these 
arbitrary  customs,  were  common  to  the  men  of 
Asia  and  America. 

One  of  these  customs,  was  that  of  extracting 
their  beards  with  the  roots.  The  Tartars  and 
the  Americans,  had  both  adopted  this  practice. 
Both  of  them  appeared  either  wholly  without  a 
beard,  or  only  with  a  few  scattered  hairs  :  And 
both  of  them  made  it  their  practice  to  extract  or 
pluck  them  out  with  the  roots.  Something  of 
the  same  kind  is  practised  by  the  Chinese. 
The  Tartar  and  the  American  had  both  con- 
tracted the  same  wandering  or  roving  disposi- 
tion, contrary  to  the  customs  and  dispositions 
of  most  nations  ;  who  seldom  have  any  disposi- 
tion to  desert  their  connexions  and  country, 
until-  they  are  compelled  to  it  by  necessity  or 
force.  They  had  both  adopted  the  same  meth- 
od of  war  J  wasting,  destroying,  and  burning  a 
country.  The  custom  of  scalping  the  dead, 
was  one  of  tlie  barbarous  habits  the  Scythians 
practised.  They  cut  a  circle  round  the  necks 
of  those  which  they  had  slain,  stripped  oft*  the 
skin,  and  carried  it  with  them  in  triumph.  In 
their  marches,  the  Kamtschatkans  never  went 


1 


HTSTOTIY  OF  VERMONT.       229 

abreast,  but  followed  one  another  in  the  form 
of  the  In  liin  file.  The  Tonpjusi,  the  most  nu* 
mtrous  nitron  resident  in  Siberia,  use  canoes 
mi'le  of  birch  bark,  distended  over  ribs  of  woo:l, 
aiK?  nicely  sewed  together.  In  these  customs 
they  are  exactly  imitated  by  the  Indians  of  A- 
merica.  In  burying  the  dead,  many  of  the  A* 
tncricun  nations  place  the  corps  at  full  length, 
other?  place  it  in  a  sitting  posture,  and  lay  by 
'  t..  most  valuable  '^'othing,  provision,  and 
arms.  The  Tartars  da  the  same  ;  and  both 
people  agreed  in  covering  the  whole  with 
earth,  so  as  to  form  a  tumulus  or  baiTow.  The 
method,  in  which  both  people  treated  their  near- 
est friends  and  relations,  was  still  more  extra- 
ordinary and  uncommon.  When  their  fathers 
and  nearest  friends  were  become  extremely  old 
and  infirm,  or  were  seized  with  a  distemper 
deemed  incurable,  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
Tartars  to  make  a  small  hut  for  the  patient,  near 
some  river,  and  to  supply  it  with  a  small  quan- 
tity of  provisions :  Removing  the  sufferer  to 
such  a  situation,  they  left  him  to  end  his  dayg» 
without  visiting  or  affording  him  any  further 
relief.  The  rudest  tribes  of  the  Americans,  ia 
several  parts  of  the  continent,  had  the  same  cus- 
tom ;  and  sometimes  they  made  use  of  force  to 
extinguish  the  remains  of  life,  in  their  diseased 
and  aged  friends.  Both  people  adopted  this 
custom,  opposite  to  the  practice  of  all  other  na- 
tions ;  And  they  both  viewed  it  in  the  same 
Jight,  not  as  an  act  of  cruelty,  or  of  any  disres- 
pect ;  but  as  a  deed  of  duty,  and  mercy  :  And 
thev  both  assigned  the  same  reason  f  i  it: 
"  They  were  kindly  relieviiig  tlieir  frie»ds  from 

tot.  L     je;  2 


J :  , 


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ifi 


'  i 


i^^i#gi«y  u«jtl»Wmi 


I  I 


'-=^--  ■  aa»«e^to 


^    ,f[ 

^  ■• 

1 

'k 

f..     '    ,1 

1 

;         '             If 

1 
1' 

;:^ 

1             -■ 

> 

i       f    I  ■ 

■     'h. 

230 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


the  increasing  and  unavoidable  miseries  of  life  ; 
and  they  were  assisting  them  in  their  journey  to 
the  other  country."  Nor  is  it  to  be  doubted 
but  that  they  assigned  the  true  reason  and  mo- 
tive, upon  which  they  acted  ;  for  no  people  were 
ever  known  to  pay  a  greater  reverence  to  the 
aged,  or  were  more  enthusiastic  in  the  venera- 
tion they  paid  to  the  tombs  and  memories  of 
their  ancestors. 

Such  customs  are  not  derived  from  any  nat- 
ural appetite,  or  from  any  thing  peculiar  to  the 
state  of  the  hunter,  or  the  savage  ;  but  must  be 
deemed  extraordinary,  uncommon,  and  arbitra- 
ry. Being  found  only  among  the  men  of  Asia 
and  America,  the  presumption  is,  that  they  were 
derived  from  the  one  to  the  other  ;  or  that  the 
latter  had  taken  them  from  the  former. 

4.  In  the  empire  of  Peru,  there  were  several 
appearances  of  Chinese  customs  and  manners. 
The  appearance,  the  dress,  and  the  superior 
knowledge,  of  Manco  Capac  and  Mama  OcoUo  ; 
the  knowledge  of  agriculture  and  the  arts,  in 
which  the  one  instructed  the  men  :  the  knowl- 
edge of  spinning,  knitting,  weaving,  and  mak- 
ing garments  of  cotton,  which  the  other  diffused 
among  the  women  ;  the  high  estimation  which 
the  children  of  the  sun  assigned  to  agriculture, 
above  all  other  arts  and  professions  ;  their  cus- 
tom of  tilling  a  field  with  their  own  hands  ;  the 
ceremony  with  which  the  Inca  began  the  busi- 
ness in  the  spring  ;  the  festivals  which  attended 
it ;  the  unlimited  authority  of  the  emperor,  with 
the  patriarchal  aspect  of  the  government ;  the 
benevolent  tendency  of  their  laws,  and  wars  ; 
and  their  public  regulations  respecting  roads, 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.   /  231 

bridges,  canals,  industry,  provision  for  the  poor 
and  ai^ed,  and  the  rtbponsibility  of  parents  for 
the  coiidiict  of  their  children  ;  all,  or  most  of 
these  articles,  bore  a  greater  resemblance  to 
Chinese  maxims,  manners,  and  customs,  than 
could  iiave  been  aequired  in  America,  during 
the  iii(  (>r  one  man  and  woman,  from  their  owri 
observaijous  and  reasonii:gs.  They  were  ad* 
vaiiccs  lowards  a  state  of  civHiz.aiiun,  that  no- 
thiiii^  in  the  degraded  state  of  the  Peruvians^ 
coil  id  have  sugfrested,  or  produced,  but  in  a 
long  period  of  lime. 

Much  pains  has  been  taken  by  many  learned 
and  ingenious  men,  to  compare  the  languages 
of  the  Americans,  with  those  of  other  nations. 
But  while  these  inquiries  \v  .  i:  been  carried  on 
with  great  assiduity,  the  most  ancient  language 
which  prevailed  in  the  east,  the  Scmskrecty  '*  the 
parent  of  almost  every  dialect  from  the  Persian 
g'.ilf  to  the  China  seas,"*  was  itself  wholly  un- 
known :  And  no  information  has  been  derived 
from  these  inquiries. 

We  must  reason  then  from  such  circumstan- 
ces as  we  can  find  :  And  if  a  judgment  can  be 
formed  from  a  similarity  of  complexion,  fea- 
tures, and  customs,  we  shall  be  led  to  conclude 
that  the  men  of  America  were  the  same  people 
with  the  men  of  Asia  ;  but  that  their  descent, 
was  not  from  any  particular  one,  but  from  se\'e- 
ral  nations  on  the  eastern  continent. 

No  difficulty  could  ever  have  attended  such 
emigrations.  The  continents  of  Asia  and  A- 
merica  approach  so  near  to  each  oth(;;r,  that  the 

•  Preface  to  the  Grammar  of  the  Bcni^al  I.anguagc,  p.  3.    Tkc  first 
transhtiua  from  the  Sanekrcct  language  Was  published  In  1785. 


<, 


ii  i  i  1 


:\r 


•  \  Vi 


I     \rJ- 


•«     'If 


232 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


^  } 


I    I 


inhabitants  are  frequently  passing  ficm  the  ont 
to  the  other.  The  discovtiies  of  the  Russians, 
and  the  greater  discoveries  of  the  most  cek  bra- 
ted  modern  navigator,  Captain  Cook ,  ha^ e  mad* 
it  certain  that  if  the  two  continents  are  stj.cra* 
ted  at  all,  it  is  only  by  a  Jtiait,  not  more  than 
eighteen  miles  in  width.  At  no  time  within 
the  period  of  histor}-,  was  tlie  navigation  of  ilie 
rudest  tribes  unequal  to  the  passage  of  such  a 
strait.  And  probably  there  never  has  been  any 
difficulty,  in  passing  from  the  one  continent  to 
the  other. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  the  red  men  of 
Asia,  might  find  a  passage  into  America  alto, 
gether  by  navigation.  **  It  has  been  long 
linowni  that  the  Asiatic  nation  called  the 
MaUiyc7is^  possessed  in  former  times,  much  the 
large  St  part  of  the  trade  of  the  Indies  ;  and 
that  their  ships  frequented,  not  only  all  the 
coasts  of  Asia,  but  even  those  of  Alrica,  and 
particularly  the  large  island  of  Madagascar. 
It  has  been  more  lately  discovered,  that  the 
same  nation  had  extended  their  voyages  and 
migrations  from  Madagascar,  to  the  Marquesas, 
and  Easter  Island  ;  that  is  nearly  from  the  east 
side  of  Africa,  until  we  apj^roach  the  west  coast 
of  America.  This  space  includes  almost  one 
hi.lf  of  the  circumference  of  the  globe.  Thrc/ 
this  imm^tnse  space  the  JMcilayam  had  spread, 
made  settlements,  ard  foundtd  colonies  in  the 
islands  at  all  the  intermediate  stages,  at  an  im- 
mcnse  distance  from  the  parent  continent. 
1  he  voyages  of  Captain  Cook  have  afi'orded 
tlit  J  irol  of  these  his^oiical  facts  :  Ard  tliey 
huve  beta  uscertahicd  not  only  by  a  bimilaiity  (i" 


■  t    ■  ■ 

v4'  \ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        253. 

manners  and  customs,  but  by  the  itffini  y  of 
language,  and  a  collection  of  similar  words, 
miide  from  all  the  widely  diffused  islands  and 
countries  visi.cd  by  this  cclebrLited   nnvigistor." 

A  PEOPLE  who  had  thus  sprud  o\(  r  one 
half  of  the  globe,  from  the  coast  of  Africa  to- 
wards America,  and  who  had  settled  all  the  isl- 
ands that  lay  between  them,  could  scarcely 
have  avoided  arriving  upon  the  western  co  st 
of  America,  and  leaving  some  of  her  people 
there.  Several  of  the  islands  that  were  settled, 
were  near  the  American  coast  ;  and  it  miUit 
have  been  much  easier  to  have  discovered  the 
continent  along  the  western  co^st  of  Americn, 
than  to  have  found  so  many  small  and  scattered 
islands.  It  is  therefore  highly  probable,  that 
the  same  people  who  spread  over  the  islands  in 
the  Pacific  ocean,  should  at  times  arrive  also  on 
the  western  shores  of  the  continent.  In  both 
these  ways  might  people  from  different  ni'tions 
in  Asia,  find  a  passage  into  Amorica,  and  at 
very  different  periods  of  time. 

'rhe  Indians  however,  were  not  the  only  men 
which  appeared  in  America.  Another  race  or 
kind  of  men  were  settled  in  the  northern  parts 
of  the  continent.  These  have  been  calkd  Es' 
quimaux.  In  their  colour,  dimensions,  features, 
and  customs,  they  differed  much  from  the  red 
men*  They  were  of  a  fallow  or  brov^'ni^h  com- 
plexion :  Their  size  about  four  feet  in  Lei|J.t  ; 
their  faces  long  and  wrinkled  ;  their  roijes  thi;.  k 
and  compressed  ;  their  eyes  small  r.nd  sunk  ; 
their  cheeks  much  raised  ;  their  i  vebiows  and 
c\elids  thick  ;  vi^h  small  kos  vvx\  hards. 
This  nation  had   spicud  o\er  tiit  mobt  nuMiicra 


iP 


,  i- 


j'" 


i  '■  I 

1.1 


I    :' 


I        ?■ 


I 
■         \ 

!'l 

III 


r 


fl- 


it 


f .t  ■!-^  ! 


u 


(> 


ill    ii 

i 


"/' . 


i     t 


;i  :. 


^.    '■ 


i  I 


,  HV. 


II 


234 


NATURxVL  AND  CIVIL 


parts  of  America.  Tlicv  are  found  in  Green- 
land, on  the  coast  of  Labradorc,  in  Hudsoirs 
F)av,  aiul  in  all  the  coasts  and  islands  on  the 
>vcst  hide  of  America,  opposite  to  Kamtschaika. 
Their  nngrations  hud  extended  to  Norton's 
sonnd,  Onolaslika,  and  prince  \\  illiam's  sound; 
one  thousand  five  hundred  leagues  from  their 
stations,  in  Greenland  and  Lubradorc.  The 
sameness  of  the  people  in  these  different 
places,  has  been  ascertained  by  their  manners, 
customs,  features,  and  complexion  ;  but  more 
tlecidedlv  by  such  an  aflinity   and  similarity  of 

«  «  w  w 

lani''nat>"e,  as  leaves  no  room  for  doubt.  It  will 
Ix:  eusy  to  determine  from  whence  this  nation 
of  the  Es(jidmaux  jiroeeeded.  Kvery  thing  in 
the  appearance  of  thi.s  people,  denotes  them  to  be 
the  same  with  the    Laplanders,    the  ZembUins, 

the  Samojcds,  and  the    Tartars  in   the    east 

Like  them  they  are  a  nation  of  dwarfs  ;  largest 
towards  tlie  south,  but  decreasing  towards  the 
north,  Thc.y  have  all  the  same  fallow  complex- 
ion,  deformed  features,  ugly  a])pearance,  and 
shiGTular  customs.  Whether  the  inhabitants, 
could  pass  from  the  northern  parts  of  Europe  into 
America  by  land  is  as  yet  unknown.  But  the 
passage  by  water,  was  at  all  times  easy  ;  and 
certiunly  at  a  very  early  period.  In  tlie  voyage 
from  Norway  to  Iceland,  and  from  Iceland  to 
Greenland,  or  the  coast  of  Labradore,  the  lirst 
part  of  the  vo}  age  ^vas  much  the  largest  :  And 
this  was  practised  from  the  earliest  times,  of 
vhich  we  have  any  account.  For  the  ninth 
century,  when  naA  igation  was  extremely  imper- 
fect, the  passage  from  Euroj^e  to  America  was 
60  well  understood,  that  the  Norwegians  planted 


1.    ..!   '^ 


■'I. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      235 

and  settled  tlieir  colonics  in  Greenland.  There 
is  but  little  room  then  to  doiib'  l)iit  that  the  na- 
tiow  of  the  Esf|uimaux  was  deriyed  tVom  the 
same  people  in  the  northwest  parts  of  Kurope, 
Tiieir  descent  therefore  nuist  hive  been  from 
the  Tartars  of  Asia,  for  it  was  IVom  them,  that 
the  Laplanders,  wlio  are  spread  over  the  north-^ 
western  parts  of  Kurope,  were  derived.  In  the 
vear  1769,  Pere  Hall,  an  astronomer  of  Mnnqfurv, 
was  sent  into  Lapland  to  observe  tiic  transit  of 
Venus.  This  able  philosopher  had  a  good  oppor- 
tunity to  become  acquainted  with  the  mannei-s^ 
customs,  features,  and  J.nguage  of  the  inhabi- 
tants in  that  part  of  the  globe  :  By  his  account, 
"  it  appears  that  the  Laplanders  vrc  only  degen- 
erate Tartars  ;  and  that  they,  iv.id  the  Tlunj^ari- 
ans,  originally  sprung  from  the  same  !  reed  of 
men,  and  from  the  same  country."^ 

The  two  kinds  of  men  then  iha'  were  in  Amer- 
ica were  derived  from  the  same  source.  The  In- 
dians and  the  Esquimaux,  >vere  both  descended 
from  the  man  of  Asia  ;  and  probably  the  most 
of  them,  from  the  same  nation,  the  Tartars.  In 
America  then  nature  had  not  made  different  ra- 
ces of  men,  fitted  for,  and  originally  placed  in 
different  climates.  The  men  of  America  were 
the  same  with  the  men  of  Asia  :  And  both  of 
them  migrated  frc;;i  one  place  to  another,  and 
ipread  through  all  uie  various  climates  of  the 
earth.  They  were  distinguished  by  the  difTer- 
cnces  of  complc  xion,  dimension,  features,  arbi- 
trary custcir.i,  and  peculiarities  of  manners,  as 
much  as  the  inhabitants  arc  in  other  parts  of  the 

*  Kaim's  Sketches  of  the  Hut.  of  Ma>,I.  p.  ii. 


r 


■; .  r 


i'i-i 


i'  t 


'V 


If 


Ii  1  fi"' 


Ml 


i\ 


i'li 


;t   i> 


1'      f 


7'/'  « 


V 


1l 


235 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


.1       li 
11' 


1|:    ' 


1 

■  ,i 

1  i 

1 

i 

V 

V 

j*lobc.  But  these  differences  must  have  been 
dtTivcd  fron  qli.ndtc,  fooJ,  manner  of  HvIm^, 
or  soaie  o.her  circumstance  ;  for  they  certainly 
were  not  derived  from  a  different  origin,  or  any 
particular  local  creation. 

Tiie  constitution  of  man  appears  to  be  the 
same,  in  every  part  of  the  globe.  Nature  has 
given  to  him  the  same  physical  and  moral  pow- 
ers, capable  of  different  det^reesof  improvement 
accordinjf^  to  the  state  of  society  in  which  he 
shall  be  placed.  But  in  no  country,  or  part  of 
the  j^lobe,  does  man  appear  to  be  au  animal  of 
climate.  Among  animals  nothing  is  more  ap- 
parent, than  that  some  are  animals  of  climate  j 
that  is,  they  are  fitted  by  nature  and  constitution 
to  some  particular  part  of  the  globe  ;  where  a- 
lone  they  can  subsist,  multiply,  and  obtain  their 
proper  perfection.  Thus  the  animals  peculiar 
to  the  torrid  and  frigid  zone,  never  leave  their 
particular  climates  out  of  choice  ;  and  when  a 
change  of  climate  is  forced  upon  them,  they  de- 
generate, and  waste  away.  It  is  evident  that 
man  is  v.ot  such  an  animal.  He  can  multiply, 
and  attain  his  proper  perfection  in  all  the  vari- 
ous climates  of  the  ea«*th.  Nature  has  not  fur- 
nished him  with  any  kind  of  covering,  fitted  to 
a  hot,  to  a  temperate,  or  to  a  cold  climate  : 
This  is  left  to  his  own  reason  and  industry,  ac- 
cording as  his  situation  may  require.  Nor  has 
nature  assigned  to  him  any  particular,  invaria- 
ble colour.  Black  is  the  absence  or  want,  and 
•white  is  the  mixture  of  all  colours  :  And  these 
are  the  extremes  between  which,  all  the  various 
complexions  fall.  Nature  therefore  has  not  as- 
signed to  man  any  covering,  or  any  invariable 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        237 


'taiiiljr 
>r  any 


colour,  or  any  thing  in  his  constitution,  that  has 
fidcd  him  particuhirly  for  the  torrid,  temperate, 
or  tVij^id  zone  :  But  has  given  him  a  nature  and 
constitution,  adtipted  to  every  climate.  And  in 
every  climate  which  produces  his  proper  food, 
the  vvhi.'e,  the  red,  and  the  black  men,  will  sub- 
sist, multiply,  and  attain  their  proper  perfection.* 
If  nature  has  thus  made  man  the  animal  of  all 
climates,  would  it  not  be  altogether  unphilosoph* 
icf>l,  to  look  out  for  local  creations  ;  or  to  intro- 
duce miraculous  interpositions  of  the  Deity,  to 
explain  those  differences  among  men  in  other 
places,  which  in  America,  we  are  certain  were 
derived  from  natural  causes  ? 

Antk^uity.  In  attempting  to  estimate  the 
antii^juity  of  the  most  polished  nations,  we  can 
derive  but  little  information  from  history.  No 
records,  no  monuments,  no  writings  can  h% 
found,  that  reach  back  to  so  ancient  a  period. 
Least  of  all  is  this  to  bj  expected  from  a  race 
of  savages,  which  had  not  the  knov\'ledge  of  let- 
ters. All  the  information  we  can  obtain,  must 
be  derived  from  such  circumstances  and  events, 
as  imply  or  denote  certain  periods  of  years ;  and 
of  these  there  are  but  few,  in  the  transactions  of 
the  savage  state. 

Some  information  may  be  collected  from  the 
extent  of  the  country  they  had  settled.  The 
continent  of  America,  in  its  dimensions,  amounts 
to  one  third  part  of  the  habitable  globe.  Over 
the  whole  of  this  continent  had  the  savages  cx« 
tended,  when  it  was  first  discovered  by  Colum- 
bus, in  the  year  1492.     Their  population  had 


li,   ' 


i  ji 


H?'' 


■  4 


-■^•a 


•  Appendix  No.  V. 

^OL.  I.        F  2 


I 


U    M 


r-  ^ 


1"! 

4 


i      f 

VI 


53^        NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 

then  attained  its  j^eatest  perfection.  No  In* 
crease  of  their  number§  has  any  where  ap]jeared 
to  take  place,  since  that  time.  No  circumstance 
or  event  has  taken  place  during  the  three  hun* 
dred  years,  that  the  Europeans  have  been  ac 
quainted  with  the  Indians,  which  can  lead  us  to 
suspect  that  the  savage  state  either  has,  or  can 
admit  of  a  greater  population,  than  what  it  had 
already  attained.  Nor  is  it  probable,  that  any 
increase  of  numbers,  and  population,  could  have 
taken  place,  while  hunting  continued  to  be  the 
method  of  procuring  subsistence.  From  the 
observations  that  were  made  in  Virginia,  and 
Massachusetts,  it  has  been  computed  that  the 
population  of  the  Indians  upon  the  sea  coasts, 
could  not  be  estimated  higher  than  one  for  eve- 
ry square  mile.  In  the  inland  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, the  Indian  population  certainly  did  not  ex- 
ceed this.  Geographers  have  computed  the 
number  of  square  miles  in  America,  to  amount 
to  fourteen  millions,  one  hundred  and  ten  thou- 
sand, eight  huridred  and  seventy  four.  We  can- 
not make  a  nearer  computation,  than  to  suppose 
this  was  about  the  number  of  Indians  it  requir- 
ed in  the  hunter's  state,  to  spread  over  the 
whole  continent.  How  long  a  period  would  it 
require,  for  the  savages  to  increase  to  such  a 
number  ?  There  has  been  no  instance  of  a  mora 
sapid  increase,  than  that  of  the  British  colonies 
in  America.  They  were  aided  by  new  emigra- 
tions from  Europe  :  But  so  much  were  thcf 
retarded  and  broke  up  in  their  settlements  by 
war,  before  the  American  revolution,  that  they 
did  not  in  fact  double  their  numbers  in  thirty 
years.    The  families  of  the  Indians  did  n(^ 


:  I 


Ini 

[artd 

jaacQ 

pun, 

ac. 

MS  to 

can 

had 

ixny 

ave 

the 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       239 

contain  more  than  half  so  many  members,  as 
those  of  the  white  people.     The  Indian  popula- 
tion then  will  be  highly  estimated,  if  we  com- 
pute it  to  be  one  half  of  that  of  the  white  inhabit- 
itants  ;  and  instead  of  thirty,  admit  sixty  years 
as  the  period  of  doubling.     Assuming  the  pop- 
ulation to  have  proceeded  from  one  male  and 
female,  this  would  require  thirteen  centuries  and 
an  half  to  have  spread  over  the  whole  continent, 
and  produced  one  inhabitant  to  every  square 
mile.     The  period  of  population  could  not  have 
been  less  than  this.     But  probably  this  period 
was  completed  long  before  Columbus  came  in- 
to America.     The  Indians  in   several  places, 
had  gone  out  of  the  hunter's  state.     On  the  sea 
coctst  i  they  were  advancing  into  something  like 
monarchy.     In  Mexico  and  Peru  they  were  be* 
come  extremely  numerous,  and  had  established 
extensive  and  powerful  empires  ;  the  duration 
of  which,  could  be  traced  back  four  or  five  hun- 
dred years.     From  their  extent  and  population 
then,  we  deduce  with  some  degree  of  probabili- 
ty, that  the  Indians  must  have  been  settled  in 
America  eighteen   centuries    when   Columbus 
first  discovered  the  continent.     This  will  carry 
us  back  tlnee  centuries  before  the  christian  era. 
The   number  and  variety  of  their  languages 
implies  and  requires  a  much  longer  duration, 
and  an  higher  antiquity.     The  Indians  of  A- 
merica  had  not  only  spread  over  the  continent, 
but  they  had  every  wliere  formed  themselves 
into  a  number  of  small  tribes.     If  we  may  judge 
of  the  number  of  these  tribes  from  what  took 
place  in  New  England,  and  Virginia,  they  must 
W«  iUQOunted  to  tJ^oujiaodi^.    Several  ef  these 


!,i 


i!;^ 


.  '1 '  ■ 


■   i 


i 

( 


1::  t 


pi 


ii 


I  i 


1  , 


1  ;l 


r  • 


t  J      .. ! 


'  i 


m  ii 


11  > 


If 


.1 , 


S40 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


tribes  had  subsisted  so  long  in  a  national  form, 
and  as  a  distinct  people,  that  they  hud  formed 
a  particular  language  for  thembtlves.  Tlure 
were  three  original  languages  spoken  iit  Canutlj  ; 
the  Sioux,  the  Huron,  and  the  Algonquin.*  In 
New  England,  there  were  one  or  two  others. f 
In  Virginia  there  were  three,  different  from  ci- 
ther of  these.  J  In  Mexico  thi  ty  five  were  dis- 
covered. In  South  America  there  were  still 
more.  In  Maraguon,  the  Portuguese  counted 
fifty. ^  In  each  of  these  places,  the  dialects  were 
nearly  as  many  as  their  tribes.  And  y<:t  these 
places  ma  e  but  a  small  part  of  tl.e  contintat. 
what  an  immense  period  of  time  does  this  re- 
quire ?  A  language  may  be  separated  into  dif- 
ferent dialects  in  a  few  generations  :  Eut  for 
these  dialects  to  recede  so  far  from  one  anoilxr^ 
as  to  lose  all  resemblance  and  r.ffinitv  ;  and  sev- 
eral  new  languages  to  be  formed,  raoically  dif- 
fering from  one  another  ;  such  an  event  could  not 
take  place,  or  be  effected,  until  the  tribes  bad  sub- 
sisted for  many  centuries,as  distinct  and  separate 
nations.  We  cannot  estimate  this  procejis  by  fixed 
periods  of  time,  because  we  hi-ive  no  fiicts  from 
which  a  comp utction  can  be  made.  But  it  may 
be  compared  to  the  state  ai  d  prepress  of  things, 
in  the  other  hemisphere  :  and  wt  sl-all  find  the 
iiuiiiber  of  languages  radically  differir.g  beni  one 
another,  more  numerous  among  the  Americans, 
than  they  were  in  Asia  and  Europe.  Js  not 
this  an  indication,  that  tie  i\d  nen  of  An:erica 
are  as  ancient  as  the  other  nations  of  the  eiudi? 

•  Alb«  Raynal,  V.  lo?. 

4  l-i«tchin»'n,  1. 4.<;7,  479. 

i  Jtfitrson's  Notes  on  Virginia,  p.  99*. 

%  (Jla'vii|;er«'iHi«t.of  M««re*. 


1^ 


HISTORY  or    VERiMONT.       241 

Learning  and  science  tlicy  had  none  :  But  na- 
ture*, situation,  and  necessity,  would  operate  as 
ccruiiiily,  and  as  regularly  upon  them,  as  upon 
ary  other  people.  And  would  it  not  require  as 
long  a  period  of  time  to  produce,  and  to  form  a 
laigiiage  among  the  savages,  as  among  any  oth- 
er people  ?  This  circumstance  seems  to  denote 
an  :tntii]uhy,  fully  equal  to  that,  which  is  claim, 
ed  by  any  of  the  nations  of  the  other  liemis- 
plicre. 

Their  antiquity  iriny  also  l>e  trncrd  back  to 
the  time,  w/ien  the  most  ustfiil  arts  were  un^ 
Ificr.vn  ;  and  when  the  red  men  of  Asia  had  noti 
the  ui^e  of  the  metals,  or  of  domestic  animals. 
S  ;me  of  the  arts  must  have  been  nearly  coc  val 
\\\A\  the  human  race  ;  for  neither  food,  raiment, 
or  '-.cibitations.  could  be  procured  without  some- 
tiic  f;-  CiF  thcra.  Other  of  the  arts  ha\e  been 
j:,'  'ki.illy  advancing,  without  owing  much  to 
c;i  <  oric;ini)l  inventor.  And  many  of  tl.em  are 
of  j.uch  antiquity,  that  their  origin  and  inventor 
are  be3ond  the  reach  of  history.  This  is  chc 
case  with  the  most  necessary  and  useful  arts  of 
life.  The  origin  of  spinning,  and  knittirg,  of 
the  plough,  the  loom,  and  the  forge,  were  more 
ancient  than  any  of  our  historical  monuments, 
records,  or  traditions.  But  when  those  arts 
were  invented,  they  never  could  be  lost.  A. 
midst  the  wars,  changes,  ai:d  revolutions,  to 
which  nations  are  exposed,  what  are  called  the 
fine  arts  may  perish  anel  be  lost.  But  no  vieis* 
ftitudes  of  human  affairs  tenet  to  destroy  thoso 
arts,  by  which  all  men  derive  their  subsistence ; 
and  which  are  equally  necessary  to  tiic  conquer- 
or mul  to  the  captive;  to  tlic  oppressor  and  to 


s. 


^'■i 


I 


1! 


\xf. 


t.\ 


V 


I  I 


1:!. 


(       ■ 

'<  I- 


i! 


•    ! 
I     '  4 


. 


.irti 


11 


-m 


^^^^• 


•!■    .     I 


242 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


the  oppressed.     The  same  observation  may  be 
made  vvidi  respect  to  the  use  of  domestic  ani- 
mals.    A  people  that  have  experienced  the  ad- 
vantages derived  from  the  food  they  afford,  and 
from  the  lab'>ur  they   perform,    would   never 
lose  this  kind  of  knowledge  ;  but  endearour 
to  apply  it  to  such  kind  of  animals,  as  they 
found  in  the  country  to   which  they  repaired. 
Of  all  these,  the  Indians  of  America  were  igno- 
rant.     They   knew  not  the  use  of  the  metals, 
spinning,  weaving,  or   the  domestic  animals  : 
They  had  derived  no   such   knowledge   from 
their  ancestors,  nor  had  they  acquired  it  them* 
selves.     At  what  period  then,  must  they  have 
settled  in  America  ?    Before   these  arts  were 
known  in  Asia.     Before  the  Scythians  became 
husbandmen,  and  before  the  most  necessary  and 
useful  arts  were  known  in  the  midst  of  Asia. 
Without  attempting  therefore  to  go  back  to  the 
beginning  of  the  creation  of  God,  we  can  find 
circumstances  that  will  carry  us  as  far  back  in- 
to antiquity,  as  any  other  nation  can  pretend. 
The  history  and  pretensions  of  the  Chinese,  do 
not  imply  or  suppose   any   circumstances    of 
greater  antiquity,  than  those  which  have  been 
mentioned.     And  it  must  be  from  circumstan- 
ces and  facts,  not  from  tradition,  that  we  must 
trace  the  antiquity  and  origin  of  ancient  nations. 
Progress   of    Society.     The  progress  of 
society  among  the  Indians,  would  make  a  curi- 
ous, and  most  useful  part  of  their  history.    The 
rudest  and  most  simpl(^  state  that  took  place 
among  them,  was  that  which  I  have  been  des- 
cribing.    Wheresoever  the   savages  continued 
to  derivf  ihsir  support  from  hunting,  they  con- 


HISTOHY  of  VERMONT. 


243 


tinucd  from  age  to  age  in  the  same  condition, 
and  made  no  improvements.  Where  the  means 
of  subsistence  were  plentiful,  and  easy  to  b« 
procured,  the  Indians  had  advanced  bc}  ond  the 
state  of  an  hunter,  and  began  to  increase  their 
numbers,  and  their  agriculture.  In  such  pla* 
ces,  society  began  to  assume  a  different  form, 
from  what  it  bore  in  their  rudest  and  most  sim- 
ple state.  And  the  tendency  of  it  was  every 
where  to  monarchy.  In  the  southern  parts  of 
New  England,  and  Virginia,  some  of  the  tribes 
were  advancing  fast  to  the  form  of  hereditary 
monarchy.  In  the  hotter  climates  it  was  al- 
ready established.  This  was  the  case  in  Flori- 
da, among  the  Natchez  on  the  Missisippi,  in 
Cuba,  Hispaniola,  and  all  the  large  islands.  In 
Bagota,  Mexico,  and  Peru,  monarchy  had  ac- 
quired its  perfect  form,  its  full  powers,  and  a 
complete  establishment.  In  each  of  these  places, 
the  progress  of  govermiient  had  been  from  per- 
fect freedom  and  independence,  to  almost  abso- 
lute and  unlimited  monarchy.  In  the  course  of 
this  progress,  two  remarkable  phenomena  ap- 
peared ;  In  one  part  of  America,  an  empire  and 
a  monarchy  was  established,  in  most  respects 
resembling  those  which  had  arisen  in  the  oth- 
er hemisphere.  In  another  part  of  America, 
an  empire  arid  a  monarchy  was  produced, 
far  superior  to  those  which  were  produced 
in  the  other  parts   of  the   globe. 

In  the  empire  of  Mexico,  almost  every  thing 
had  taken  the  Asiatic,  and  European  course. 
The  great  body  of  the  people  were  reduced  to  a 
degraded  and  humiliating  state  ;  and  held  their 
Uves,  and  performed  their  labours,  under  various 


■i 


1,'Iji 


\| 


K'r 


'I!  (  ,: 


^T'.lll 


•  ' : 


y\\ 


i 


I,; 


>,  I      » 


^'  iit 


II  : 


ill 


i! 


! 


■f  i 


'  ^ 


i  t 


I ' 


S44 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I. 


I, 


H 


J 


iiames  and  dcTrees  of  degradation  and  an;ir,c- 
ment.  A  body  of  nobility  were  pohsc-scd  of 
ample  territories,  of  c^reat  pri\  iJeges,  jx.wi  -s, 
and  UoMoury,  under  diil'crent  names  ynd  clt  ci^-,lls. 
Above,  and  over  cill,  was  the  monarch,  enj()\i.iif 
supreme  power  and  dignity.  After  being  ti.c- 
tive  during  the  reign  of  eleven  of  their  sover- 
eigns, the  monarchy  was  become  uhnost  libso. 
lute  and  hereditary,  in  Montezuma.  The  sys- 
tem of  religion  agreed  perfectly  well  to  the  na- 
ture of  the  government  :  It  was  severe,  caiel, 
and  barbarons  ;  and  delighted  in  the  sprinkling 
and  she  dding  of  blood  :  Human  sacrifices  ol'ail 
others  were  esteemed  the  most  acceptable,  and 
availing  ;  and  the  priests  had  the  privilege,  the 
honour,  and  the  profit,  of  announcing  or  remov- 
ing the  vengeance  of  the  gods.  This  system  of 
monarchy  had  acquired  a  stability,  a  regularit}-, 
and  a  vigour,  equal  to  any  monarchy  that  was 
then  upon  the  earth.  Upon  comparing  the 
spirit  of  monarchy,  imtempered  by  representa- 
tion, in  America,  in  Asia,  and  in  Europe  ;  the 
Spirit  and  the  principles  of  it,  will  be  found  eve. 
ty  where  to  have  operated  alike.  It  degrades 
the  body  of  the  people  below  the  condition  and 
nature  of  man.  It  exalts  the  nobles  and  the 
sovereign  above  the  condition  and  state,  which 
nature  designs  or  admits.  In  one  foi  m  or  an- 
other it  has  always  been  attended  with  a  perse- 
cuting, cruel,  and  bloody  religion,  put  into  the 
hands  of  a  wealthy,  and  powerful  priesthood. 
It  has  constantly  produced  the  spirit  of  war  and 
destruction  ;  and  generally  derived  to  itself  se- 
curity, wealth,  and  j:)Ower,  from  the  misery,  de- 
struction, and  slaughter,  it  has  eiiitaikd  on  tiic 


^L:V 


I ' 


htStOnV  Of  VEttMONt.        245 

human  race.  By  placing  the  rulers  in  a  situa- 
tion altogether  unnatural^  that  is,  above  all  sense 
of  accountability  to  their  fellow  men,  it  has  pro- 
duced that  constant,  steady,  and  universal  abuse 
of  power,  which,  in  every  part  of  the  globe,  had 
been  the  distinguishing  and  Certain  effect  of 
this  fortn  of  government.  Its  spirit  and  prin- 
ciple have  every  ^v^lere  been  the  same  ;  not  the 
honour  which  the  great  Montesquieu  wished  to 
ascribe  to  it,  and  wanted  to  find  in  it,  but  that 
total  want  of  regard  and  accountability  to  man, 
which,  with  great  accuracy  and  jDropriety,  has 
been  lately  named  a  contempt  of  the  people. 

The  empire  of  Peru  was  formed  and  govern^ 
€d  by  a  species  of  monarchy^  different  from 
what  has  ever  taken  place  among  any  other 
people*  Twelve  successive  monarchs,  for  a 
period  of  more  than  four  hundred  years,  had 
been  invested  with  hereditary  and  absolute 
povven  They  clainied  this  authority,  not  as 
derived  to  them  in  any  manner  or  degree  from 
the  people,  but  as  the  absolute  and  exclusive 
donation  of  heaven^  They  announced  them- 
selves to  be  the  children  of  the  sun,  and  clothed 
with  divine  and  unlimited  power  to  direct  all 
the  civil  and  religious  affairs  of  the  people.  The 
sovereign  was  named  Inca  ;  and  so  sacred  and 
pure  were  the  family  of  tlK;  Inca's,  in  the  minds 
of  the  people,  that  they  were  universally  esteem- 
ed incapable  of  committing  a  crime,  or  falling? 
into  an  errour  :  No  other  family  might  marry 
or  mingle  with  it,  for  fear  of  polluting  the  heav- 
enly blodd.  The  people  looked  up  to  them,  as 
to  beings  of  a  superior  and  heavenly  race  :  And 
all  disobedience  to  them,  was  viewed  not  barely 

VOL.   I.         G  2     . 


I.'.! 


1:1 


iMf, 


^Sur 


''\ 


\ 


■     ^ 


t 


i  h' 


\r: 


\    • 


MS 


lli 


V: 


H 


M^'li 


ltd 


246  NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


/•  J 


i   ' 


r  '■ 


. «, 


y  I! 

A:     \ 

'I 

i 


IV  ■ 


*|  i-i' 


$ 


1 

V 

•■it; 

V 

'  ^b>. 

as  a  crime  committed  against  tnen,  but  as  aff 
act  of  rebellion  against  God*     The  nobility  of 
course  was  nothinj^  more  than  fvimilies  of  oflice. 
Though  a  difltrcncc  of  rank   liad   taken  place 
throughout  the  empire,  all  hut  the  children  of 
the  sun,   were  supposed  to  belong  to  the  com- 
mon race  of  men.     The  peopic  were  well  cloth-* 
cd,  and  fed  ;    every   where   diatinj^uished  for 
their  indnstry,   economy,   moderation,  content- 
Jnent,   and   happiness.     0\'cr   this  people,  the 
Incas,  tliough  absolute  in  power,  established  a 
govcrnn>ent  the  most  mild  and  gentle,  that  ha» 
ever  tarken  place  in  any  pait  of  the  eaith.     Thd 
morals  O'f  the  jxjopie   were  so  pure^  that  few 
crimes  were  ever  committed  :  The  genius  of 
tlie  government  was  so  mild,  that  few  punish- 
ments  were  ever  executed  :   And   when  they 
ivere,  they  \ter(i  viewed  as  the  necessary  acts  of 
God,  and  not  of  men.     Their  go^ernmenty  the 
dominion  of  prosperity  and  virtue,  was  esteem- 
ed by  the  people  the  dominion  of  God  and  hi» 
IiKa.     Their  system  of  religion,  like  their  gov- 
ernnienBy  was  mild,   gentle,  and  pacific.     The 
$uti,  the  emblem   of  light,    serenity,    fertility, 
beneficeiicc,  joy,  and  life,   was  the  object  of 
.aeir  adoration.     They  oflered  to  him  a  part  of 
those   productions,    which   they  derived   from 
cultivating  the  earth,   enriched  by   his  genial 
warmth.     They  presented  to  him  specimens  of 
those  works  of  ingenuity,  which  they  had  per- 
A>rmed  by  his  light.     And  they  brought  to  him 
some  of  those  animals,  which  were  nourished 
by  his  influence.     But  the  Inca  never  stained 
tlieir  altars  with  human  blood  ;  or  admitted  the 
dftv^ge  idtiXy  that  the  source  of  bcaeficence  could 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        247 

be  pleased  with  the  persecution,  cruelty,  aiid 
destruction  of  men.  Their  system  of  war  par- 
took of  the  same  spirit  of  mildness,  and  wisdom. 
They  fought  not  to  exterminate,  but  to  con- 
quer :  they  conquered  not  to  enslave,  but  to 
improve,  to  civilize,  and  refine.  No  cruel  tor- 
ture awaited  the  captive.  No  barbarous  marks 
of  degradation,  disgrace,  triumph,  or  slavery, 
were  reserved  )r  the  prisoners.  They  were 
taught  the  same  system  of  government  and  re- 
ligion, as  the  rest  of  the  people  :  they  were  ad- 
mitted to  the  same  privileges  ;  and  treated  with 
the  same  lenity  and  mildness.  Of  all  the  tri- 
umphs of  the  Inca,  the  noblest  and  the  greatest, 
was  to  diffuse  the  manifold  blessings  of  peace 
and  happiness,  to  the  people  whom  they  liad 
subdued. 

Such  was  the  genius,  the  spirit,  and  the  ef- 
fect, of  the  system  of  monarchy  that  was  estab- 
lished in  Peru.  We  need  not  hesitate  to  pro- 
nounce it  superior  to  any,  that  was  then  to  be 
found  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  genius 
and  the  spirit  of  it,  were  above  all  others,  mild 
and  gentle  :  the  object  and  the  aim  of  it,  were 
in  fact,  the  improvement  and  the  happiness  of 
the  pec  .pie.  And  if  any  government  ever  pro- 
duced this  effect,  that  government  was  the 
monarchy  of  Peiii :  Not  the  attainment  of  the 
most  polished  nations  of  Asia,  and  Europe,  of 
their  arts,  science,  and  improvement  ;  but  of 
the  greater  wisdom  and  simplicity  of  the  In- 
dians, and  Incas  of  America. 

We  have  here  a  phenomenon,  new,  and  al- 
most incredible  in  the  political  world.  Abso- 
lute, unlimited,  and  hereditary  monarchy,  which 


!• 


i(      [■   . 


'.  I 


i 

ML  V 


L.,. 


''  I 


i    Ml 


it 


■"\   \ 


i:\     i\ 


■\ 


♦  J 


ir 


f  ,1 


I'HH'lii 


if 


V    « 


i    f 

'1' 

> 

> 

Vv   .; 

t 

S48 


NATURAL  A  ;D  CIVIL 


has  never  failed  before  or  since  to  prove  one  of 
the  heaviest  curses,  which  has  fallen  upon  man- 
kind ;  in  Peru  became  mild,  gentle,  and  benefi- 
cent :  And  was  constantly  employed  durinjj  the 
reign  of  twelve  successive  monarchs,  to  reiine, 
civilize,  and  improve  the  people  ;  and  to  do  the 
greatest  good  to  mankind.  And  yet  this  was  a 
system  not  founded  in  truth,  or  in  nature  ;  but 
in  delusion  and  superstition.  What  could  give 
it  a  direction  so  steady,  uniform,  and  benevolent? 
Not  the  form,  but  the  principle  of  it.  It  con- 
tained the  best  and  the  purest  principle,  that 
can  enter  into  the  nature  of  human  government. 
Its  origin,  duration,  and  power,  depended  whol- 
ly upon  the  public  sentiment.  The  Inca  claimed 
immediate  descent,  ^nd  relation  to  the  sun. 
The  sun  was  the  emblem  of  peac^,  and  benevo- 
lence. Had  the  monarch  stained  his  character 
by  enormity  in  crimes  and  vices,  or  by  a  con- 
stant abuse  of  power,  nature  would  have  taught 
the  Peruvians  that  monsters  in  corruption,  vice, 
and  cruelty,  could  not  have  been  the  favourite 
children  of  the  Deity.  If  the  Inca  had  been 
viewed  in  this  light,  all  his  divinity,  and  his 
power  would  have  ended.  His  powrer  was 
founded  altogether  in  the  opinion  the  people 
had  formed  of  his  divine  descent,  qualifications, 
character,  and  virtues.  So  solicitous  had  the 
Incas  been  to  preserve  this  opinion,  that  through 
the  whole  period  of  their  successions,  they  had 
taken  the  most  scrupulous  care  not  to  endanger 
or  oppose  it,  by  any  base  and  unworthy  conduct. 
And  while  they  thus  proved  the  constant  friends 
and  benefactors  of  the  people,  the  public  esteem 
^d  veneration  mcreased*.    In  the  benevqleuac 


\h 


>Ii^ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       249 

and  usefulness  of  the  Inca,  the  people  helieved 
they  saw  the  children  of  the  sun  :  And  in  the 
affections  and  opinions  of  the  people,  the  Inca 
found  an  absolute  and  unlimited  power.  But 
if  his  conduct  had  i)lainly  discovered  that  instead 
of  being  the  child  of  the  sun,  he  was  the  child 
of  folly,  of  vice,  and  abominable  iniciuity,  his 
divinity,  his  power,  and  his  empire  would  have 
ceased  with  the  public  opinion. 

Instead  then  of  being  founded  in  a  con- 
tempt of  the  people  like  the  empire  of  Mexico, 
the  monarchy  of  Peru  had  the  singular  good 
fortune  of  being  founded  in  the  public  senti- 
ment. This  rendered  the  Inca  accountable  to 
the  people  for  every  part  of  his  conduct  :  And 
this  sense  of  accountability  would  keep  a  con- 
stant sense  of  duty  and  character  upon  his  mind. 
Thus  under  the  form  of  absolute  hereditary 
monarchy,  the  government  of  Peru  had  the  un- 
common advantage  of  excluding  nobility  with 
all  its  odious  distinctions  and  claims  ;  and  of 
embracing  the  best  and  purest  principles,  upon 
which  civil  government  can  ever  be  founded. 
The  Indians  seem  to  have  been  the  only  peo- 
ple, among  whom,  a  regard  to  the  public  senti- 
ment and  benefit,  did  in  fact  constitute  the 
spirit  and  principle  of  hereditary  and  absolute 
monarchy. 

Tendency  to  Dissolution.  However 
beautiful  and  promising  tix  progicss  of  society 
once  was  among  the  Indc.iia  of  America,  it  is 
DOW  every  where  tendi:  t*  to  d*  cav  and  dissolu^ 
tion  ;  and  this  has  Ixcn  its  leiidency,  ever  since 
the  first  arrival  of  the  Furopcar.s.  In  the  de- 
struction gf  tlie  emj  iK^  of  ivk^ico^  and  Perq, 


( 


f(:  •  fi . 


I  I 


;  I 


'   i? 


I    ' 


1      t  \ 


■I        ( 


..M 


fW\'    :; 


I  I 


250 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


■  1   i 

•i  .       1 .1. ; ' 


ril! 


; ' 


Cortez  and  Pizarro  performed  the  most  accurs. 
cd  transactions  that  ever  were  done  by  man. 
And  wherever  the  Europeans  have  settled, 
misery,  calamity,  and  destruction,  have  been  en- 
tailed on  that  unhappy  race  of  men.  The  vices 
we  have  taught  them,  the  diseases  we  have 
spread  among  them,  the  intemperance  they  have 
learnt  of  us,  and  the  destruction  of  their  game, 
are  evils  for  which  the  savage  is  unable  to  find 
a  remedy.  A  cnntcmpt  of  our  morals,  a  hoTrour 
at  the  knavery  that  has  attended  our  commerce 
with  them  J  and  the  constant  advances  we  have 
made  into  their  country,  have  filled  their  minds 
with  prejudices  against  our  arts  and  improve^ 
mcnts.  This,  added  to  the  frequency  and  bit- 
terness of  their  wars,  to  their  constant  hardships 
and  sufierings,  and  to  a  defective  population, 
but  too  plainly  denote  the  event.  The  constant 
waste  and  decay  of  this  people,  must  end  in 
theu'  total  destruction  :  According  to  the  pre- 
sent course  and  tendency  of  things,  in  two  or 
three  centuries,  the  whole  race  must  become 
extinct.  Instead  of  wishing  for  such  an  event, 
it  would  add  to  the  giory  of  the  United  States 
to  make  a  serious  attempt  to  prevent  it.  It  has 
been  the  practice  of  arbitrary  govtrnments  to 
sport  with  the  liberties,  and  lives  of  men.  A 
government  of  reason  and  nature  ought  to  at- 
tempt to  conciliate  the  affections  of  a  free,  brave, 
indeijendcnt,  and  generous  people.  It  would  be 
a  greater  glory,  than  we  have  ever  yet  attained, 
if  we  could  find  out  a  way  to  impart  the  bles- 
sings of  the  civil  state,  to  a  people  whose  great- 
est miseries  and  misfortunes  have  been  derived 
from  the  superior  arts,  the  policy,  and  the  pow 
er  of  civilized  nations. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        251 


r. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


First  Settlements  and  Wars  with  th« 
Indians.  Earliest  accounts  of  the  Northern 
Indians.  Discoveries  and  settlements  in  their 
country  by  the  French.  Origin  and  progress 
of  IVar  bet-ween  the  natives  and  the  Europe^ 
ans.  Injluen;:e  of  the  Priests.  French  Ex- 
peditions. Proceedings  of  the  Governor  of 
Nei.vyork.  Destruction  of  Montreal  by  the 
Iroquoise.     From  the  year  1535  to  1689. 

SUCH  were  the  men  who  were  spread 
over  the  northern  parts  of  America  in  the  iit- 
teenth  century.  It  docs  not  appear  that  any 
other  men  but  the  Indians  had  ever  been  in  the 
country,  previous  to  that  time.  On  October 
the  12th,  1492,  by  astonishing^  efforts  of  genius 
and  perseverance,  Columbus  discovered  the 
western  hemisphere,  at  the  island  of  Guanahana. 
Among  all  his  discoveries  the  most  important, 
was  that  of  a  new  race  of  men  ;  of  men  in  tlieir 
appearance,  manners,  habits,  and  customs,  very 
different  from  the  inhabitants  of  the  eastern 
hemisphere.  Influenced  by  the  spirit  of  curi- 
osity, enterprize,  avarice,  and  ambition,  the 
subjects  of  the  Spanish  monarchy  embarked  in 
great  numbers  to  the  southern  parts  of  Ameri- 
ca ;  visited  the  nati/es,  subdued  the  accessable 
parts  of  their  country,  and  planted  them  with 
the  men  of  Europe.  These  attempts  and  meas- 
ures every  where  produced  the  same  effects, 
bloody  and  barbarous  w^ars,  between  the  men  of 
the  two  continents  ;  now  for  the  first  time,  in- 


v!l. 


in- 


•iT     .       I 


fi$-^ 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


:i| 


:  (' 


termixin[^  and  mingling  together. 

While  t\vc  court  of  Spain  Was  carrying  its 
conquests,  and  advancing  its  interciit  in  the 
southern  parts  of  America,  the  courts  of  France 
tmd  England  turned  their  attention  to  the  nor- 
thern parts  of  the  continent  ;  and  endeavored  in 
those  regions  to  find  avenues  equally  favorable 
to  commerce,  conquest,  wealth,  and  power, 
Francis  the  first,  at  that  time  king  of  France, 
was  one  of  the  most  active  princes  of  the  age  ; 
and  though  constantly  involved  in  wars  and 
misfortunes  he  did  not  intend  that  the  kings  of 
Spain  and  England  should  divide  the  whole 
continent  of  America  between  themselves. 
With  a  view  to  explore  the  northern  latitudes, 
and  to  find  a  place  for  a  French  colony,  he  fitted 
out  James  Cartier  on  a  voyage  of  discovery. 
Cartier  sailed  from  St.  Malo,  on  the  20th  of 
April  1534  ;  andxn  the  course  of  the  summer 
entered  the  mouth  of  Canada  river,  visited  the 
bay  of  Chaleur,  and  that  of  Gaspe  ;  and  from 
thence  sailed  to  the  northward,  till  he  discover- 
ed the  land  on  the  opposite  side  of  tlie  river* 
Having  made  these  discoveries  he  returned  to 
France,  and  arrived  at  St.  Malo  on  the  fifth  of 
September* 

The  next  year  he  was  fitted  out  with  three 
ships,  and  arrived  at  the  isle  of  Orleans,  in  the 
beginning  of  September,  and  came  to  anchor 
between  the  island  and  the  north  shore.  To  the 
river  he  gave  the  name  of  St,  Lawrence  ;  and 
leaving  his  ships  at  anchor  on  September  the 
19th,  he  set  out  with  his  pinnace  and  two  boats 
upon  a  voyage  un  the  river  to  Hochelaga  ;  where 
he  arrived  October  the  second,  and  gave  to  the 


HISTOHY  of  VERMONT. 


25S 


n'^f^S  its 
in   the 
^  i^rance 
the  nor- 
vored  in 
avorable 
power. 
France, 
he  age  ; 
3rs  and 
ings  of 
5  whole 
w  selves, 
ititudes, 
he  fitted 
»covcry, 
20th  of 
5umm«r 
ited  the 
id  from 
scover- 
e  riven 
rned  to 
fifth  of 

1  three 

in  the 
anchor 
To  the 

;  and 
?r  the 

boats 
where 
to  the 


place  the  name  of  Montrealy  by  whi^h  it  has  ev- 
er since  been  denoted. 

Instead  of  meeting  with  hostilities  at  either 
place,  Cartier  was  received  bj  the  natives  with 
all  the  demonstrations  of  joy,  which  they  were 
able  to  exhibit.  At  Hochclaga  the  Indians  had 
intelligence  of  his  approach,  and  made  prepara- 
tions to  give  him  the  most  friendly  reception. 
The  savages,  to  the  number  of  about  a  thou- 
sand, came  forward  in  a  body  to  bid  him  wel- 
come to  their  country.  The  men  were  on  one 
side,  the  women  on  the  other,  and  the  children 
in  a  body  by  themselves  ;  and  the  whole  came 
forward  singing  and  dancing,  with  every  ap- 
pearance of  the  highest  confidence  and  joy.  To 
their  new  guests,  the  Indians  made  presents  of 
corn,  fish,  and  such  other  kind  of  j>rovisions  as 
they  had  ;  in  return,  the  Frenchmen  gave 
knives,  beads,  and  other  trinkets.  The  first 
night  the  Europeans  lodged  in  their  boats,  and 
the  natives  watched  on  the  shore,  dancing  all 
night  round  their  fires. 

The  next  day  Cartier  with  twenty  five  of  his 
company  set  out  on  a  /isit  to  the  Indian  town. 
He  was  met  on  his  \\\\v  hy  a  man,  who  appear- 
ed to  be  one  of  tiicir  clii;  fs  ;  ind  whose  business 
it  was,  to  introduce  him  to  the  capital  of  their 
country.  Cartier  presented  to  the  Indian  chief 
two  hatchets,  two  krive  s,  and  a  cross,  which  he 
hung  over  the  Indians  neck,  and  taught  him  to 
kiss.  Passing  from  the  river  tov/ards  the  town, 
the  French  went  through  groves  of  oak,  the 
acorns  of  which  were  fallen,  and  were  so  nume- 
rous as  to  cover  the  ground.  They  passed  al- 
so through  fields  of  corn,  some  of  it  gathered, 

VOL.  I.         H  2 


r-  ''/ 


^i'. 


t  \\ 


f 


ft ! 


254 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


< 


1  ,,. 


and  all  ripe.  In  the  midst  of  these  fields  of  corit," 
and  surrounded  by  them,  was  the  Indian  capi«- 
tal,  Hocheiuga. 

The  construction  and  state  of  the  town  dis- 
covered a  degree  of  improvement,  of  which  Cartiei 
had  before  met  with  no  specimen  in  the  Indian 
country,  and  had  no  expectation  to  find  from 
the  Indian  genius.  It  was  laid  out  in  a  circular 
form,  and  was  surrounded  with  three  lines  of 
palisadoes  ;  through  these  palisades  there  was 
but  one  passage  or  place  of  entrance,  and  that 
was  well  secured  both  with  stakes  and  bars. 
On  the  inside,  the  fortification  consisted  of  what 
in  the  European  language  was  called  a  rampart 
of  timber,  to  which  the  ascent  was  by  ladders  ; 
heaps  of  stones  were  also  collected,  and  placed 
in  such  situations  as  would  best  serve  the  pur- 
poses of  strength  or  defence.  Within  these 
fortifications  there  were  about  fifty  Indian  hous- 
es :  tlicse  houses  were  a  kind  of  long  huts, 
built  with  stakes,  and  covered  with  the  bark  of 
trees.  In  the  middle  of  each  Indian  house  there 
was  a  fire  place  ;  and  around  the  sides  were  tlie 
lodging  or  sleeping  places,  the  floors  of  w'hich 
were  bark,  and  the  covering  made  of  skins.  In 
the  upper  parts  of  the  houses  were  scaffolds,  on 
which  they  placed  and  dried  their  corn.  Their 
provisions  were  corn,  beans,  squashes,  pump- 
kins, and  fish.  Their  corn  they  pounded  in  a 
kind  of  wooden  mortars,  and  when  beat  mixed 
•with  water,  and  baked  on  hot  stones.  Their 
fish  was  dried  in  the  sun,  or  in  their  houses, 
and  preserved  in  troughs.  Their  squashes  and 
pumpkins  were  generally  consumed  while  they 
remained  green.    At  Hochclaga  the  people  ap- 


HISTOPwY  OF    VERMONT.      255 

peared  to  derive  their  chief  subsistence  from 
fishing  and  tillage,  but  in  the  lower  parts  of  the 
river,  hunting  seemed  to  be  the  chief  employ- 
ment :  But  at  both  places,  the  sachem,  or  chief 
man  of  Hochelaga  was  considered  as  the  sover- 
eign, to  whom  the  people  were  in  subjection, 
and  paid  tribute. 

In  the  centre  of  the  town  there  was  a  large 
Open  square  :  to  that  place  Carticr  and  his  com- 
pany was  conducted,  and  mats  were  spread  on 
the  ground  for  the  new  guests  to  sit  on.  The 
Indian  men  seated  themselves  in  a  large  circle 
round  them  ;  but  the  women  came  ^veeping, 
with  joy,  rubbing  their  hands  and  faces,  and 
bringing  their  children  to  be  touched  by  their 
new  visitors.  At  length  the  sovereign,  the  In- 
dian King,  was  brought  on  the  shoulders  of  ten 
men,  and  placed  on  a  mat  next  to  Cartier.  The 
monarch  of  the  savages  had  a  covering  made  of 
the  quills  of  the  porcupine,  died  red  ,*  this  he 
took  off  and  gave  to  the  French  captain,  request- 
ing him  at  the  same  time  to  rub  his  arms  and 
legs,  which  were  much  affected  with  a  palsy. 
Several  other  persons  declining  with  age  or 
sickness,  were  also  brought  to  be  touched  and 
healed  by  the  strangers.  Cartier  saw  at  once 
that  the  Indiaiis  viewed  him  and  his  company 
as  gods  ;  or  at  least  as  a  race  of  beings  far  su- 
j)erior  to  themselves  ;  and  resolved  to  avail 
himself  of  their  weakness  and  superstition.  He 
laid  his  hands  on  them,  cast  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
repeated  some  devotional  passages  from  his  ser- 
vice book,  and  assumed  such  features  and  ges- 
tures as  he  supposed  would  most  engage  and 
affect  a  savage  mind  and  tribe.     The  Indians 


'  :    t 


,  n  i 


,  'I 


1' 


■  4, 


il  11  ^ 


)' 


fl 


1 

1 

L. 

J 

I; 


1 


A         i 


256        NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 

attentively  observed  all  his  motions  and  ges- 
tures, and  endeavored  to  imitate  and  repeat 
them. 

Th  I  s  farce  being  finished,  Cartier  proceeded 
to  exhibit  more  substantial  proofs  of  his  benevo- 
lence and  power.  He  signified  to  the  multi- 
tude that  he  wished  the  men,  women,  and  chiK 
dren,  would  divide  themselves  into  separate 
companies.  The  natives  immediately  made 
such  an  arrangement.  To  the  men  Cartitr  then 
made  a  present  of  hatchets,  to  the  women  he 
presented  a  quantity  of  beads,  and  to  the  children 
he  gave  a  multitude  of  rings.  The  moment 
these  donations  were  ended,  he  ordered  his 
drums  to  beat,  and  the  trumpets  to  sound.  As- 
tonished but  delighted  with  the  scene  the  sava- 
ges shouted,  and  tlie  whole  company  fell  to 
dancing.  What  could  be  wanting  to  convince 
the  multitude  that  their  new  guests  were  gods> 
full  of  benevolence  and  power  ? 

Cartier  next  proposed  to  ascend  the  hill, 
under  which  the  town  was  built.  The  Indians 
flonducted  him  to  the  summit,  and  pointed  out 
to  him  the  course  of  the  i  iver  above  their  town  ; 
and  informed  him  that  he  might  sail  on  it  for 
three  moons  without  coming  to  an  end  :  that 
it  ran  through  two  or  three  lakes  ;  that  beyond: 
them  there  was  a  sea  of  fresh  water,  to  which 
they  knew  of  no  limits  ;  that  on  the  other  side 
of  the  mountains  there  was  another  river  w  hich 
rail  to  the  southwest,  through  a  country  in 
which  there  was  no  ice  or  snow  ;  and  that  there 
were  such  metals  as  silver,  gold,  and  copper,  to 
be  found  in  the  country.  Having  obtained  all 
the  information  which  he  expected,  Cartier  pre- 


^11 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       257 

pared  to  depart,  and  left  Hochelaga  October  the 
fourth.  The  natives  accompanied  the  French 
to  their  boats,  carried  such  of  them  as  w  ere  sick 
upon  their  shoulders,  and  followed  them  along 
the  banks  of  the  river  to  a  considerable  distance  ; 
discovering  the  marks  of  sorrow  ?.nd  distress  at 
their  departure.  On  October  the  eleventh  Car- 
tier  and  his  company  arrived  sife  at  the  isle  of 
Orleans,  where  he  tarried  that  winter,  and  at- 
tempted to  found  a  colony,  but  which  was  soon 
broke  up. 

From  this  voyage,  the  first  that  had  ever 
been  made  into  the  interior  parts  of  North  A- 
inerica,  the  manners  and  dispositions  of  the  na- 
tives became  in  some  measure  known.  It  was 
found  that  the  Indians  were  divided  into  many- 
distinct  tribes  or  nations  ;  which,  instead  of 
being  in  a  state  of  union  or  confederation  among 
themselves,  were  generally  in  a  state  of  hostility 
and  wa;.  Among  other  proofs  of  their  hostility 
to  each  other,  Cartier  found  at  the  isle  of  Or- 
leans the  scalps  of  five  men,  spread  out,  and 
dried  like  parchment.  These,  he  was  told  were 
taken  from  some  of  the  southern  Indians,  with 
whom  they  were  constantly  at  variance  ;  and 
that  the  scalps  of  their  enemies  were  considered 
as  the  most  honorable  evidence  of  their  own 
prowess  and  exploits  in  war.  But  with  respect 
to  their  new  visitors,  instead  of  any  appearances 
of  suspicion,  feai',  or  hostility,  they  were  every 
where  ''eceived  with  the  tokens  of  friendship, 
confidence,  and  the  highest  expectations  of  un- 
common benefit  and  advantage  from  their  visit- 
ations. Instead  of  making  any  preparations  to 
appose,  the  natives  received  them  with  the  highm 


t'l.c 


w .  ti 


4 


■''1!' 


|..  ■   .     Mjl 


'H.  ,1 


!    ^1 


I 


'■"ifjm 


258 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


J 


est  marks  and  effusions  of  joy,  as  beings  of  u 
superior  order,  from  whose  benevolence  and 
power  they  expected  to  receive  uncommon 
benefits  and  advantages.  Nor  was  it  till  the 
Europeans  began  their  enterprizes  of  injustice 
and  violence  that  the  natives  had  any  fear  or 
suspicion,  or  made  any  prej>arations  either  for 
defence  or  hostility.* 

The  colony  attempted  by  Carticr  having 
failed,  no  further  attempt  was  made  either  to 
explore,  or  to  make  any  settlements  in  the  in- 
terior parts  of  Canada,  till  tl>e  year  1603.  That 
year  a  voyage  was  undertaken  by  Samuel 
CHAMPLAiN,a  man  of  a  noble  family  in  France, 
He  sailed  up  the  river  St.  Lawrence  as  far  as 
Cartier  had  proceeded  in  1535,  and  visited  the 
places  which  that  celebrated  navigator  had  de- 
scribed. Passing  the  isle  of  Orleans  he  came 
to  anchor  at  a  place  called  Quebec,  which  in  the 
language  of  the  natives  denoted  a  strait.  Cham- 
plain  remarked  that  this  place  might  be  ap- 
proached by  the  largest  vessels,  that  it  was  sur- 
rounded by  water  on  tliree  of  its  sides,  had  a 
situation  elevated  and  commanding  ;  and  that 
with  a  little  labor  it  mi^':ht  be  made  a  place  of 
great  strength,  and  was  in  every  view  a  fit  place 
to  erect  a  fort,  and  begin  a  settlement.  He 
then  proceeded  up  the  river  to  Hochelaga  or 
Montreal,  and  made  man}-  inquiries  of  the  na- 
tives respecting  their  country,  its  rivers,  lakes, 
productions,  and  inhabitants.  Without  fear  or 
suspicion,  and  with  the  most  artless  simplicity, 
the  Indians  informed  him  that  there  was  a  com- 

•  Haltluyt   Vol.  3,  p.  2ol— 209.   American  Biography  Vol  i.  paS'i 
3j8— 184. 


Ill 


« 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      259 

munirition  to  the  south,  by  means  of  the  lakes 
with  a  fertile  country,  which  belonged  to  a 
powerful  and  warlike  nation  called  the  Iroquoise  ; 
that  there  were  several  and  large  lakes  to  the 
west,  to  one  of  which  they  knew  of  no  bounds ; 
and  that  to  the  north  there  was  a  large  inland 
sea  of  salt  water,  the  limits  of  which  were  also 
unknown.  Having  obtained  this  information, 
Champlain  returned  to  France  to  communicate 
his  discoveries  to  the  government  ;  and  to  pro- 
cure assistance  and  supplies,  to  effect  a  settle- 
ment in  the  countr}% 

In  1607  the  establishment  of  a  colony  on  the 
river  St.  Lawrence,  became  an  object  of  serious 
attention  to  the  court  and  merchants  of  France. 
It  was  concluded  that  such  a  colony  would  ex- 
tend the  fur  trade,  and  open  a  communication 
to  China  through  the  western  lakes  ;  and  thus 
serve  to  benefit  the  kingdom,  and  to  enrich  the 
adventurers.  Encouraged  by  these  expectations, 
several  vessels  were  fitted  out  in  the  year  1608, 
to  begin  a  colony.  Champlain  had  the  com- 
mand. He  arrived  at  the  place  called  Quebec^ 
in  the  beginning  of  July.  In  his  former  voyage 
he  had  fixed  upon  this,  as  the  most  eligible 
place  for  a  settlement,  j»jid  upon  his  arrival  he 
immediately  began  to  cut  down  the  trees,  to 
clear  up  the  land,  to  erect  buildings,  and  pre- 
pare the  soil  for  gardens  and  fields.  At  that 
place  he  spent  the  winter  with  his  company,  in 
the  course  of  which  they  suffered  much  from 
the  severity  of  the  climate,  and  the  prevalency 
of  the  scurvy. 

Having  began  his  colony  at  Quebec,  in  the 
spring  of  the  year  1609  Champlain  set  out  to 


i^. 


.■I 


■    •'!!' 


-V.i 

>-.t 


i?  'i 


; .  I 


'r   . 


,  i') . 


;«i 


260 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


ri 


J  ., 


II 


i'<,  >' 


1* 


explore  the  southern  lake,  which  the  Indians 
informed  him  opened  a  communication  with  the 
tvarlikc  nation  of  the  Iroquoise.  Taking  wjfh 
him  a  party  of  the  natives,  and  two  Frenchmen, 
he  went  up  the  riwr  now  called  Sorel,  and  ex- 
plored both  the  southern  lakes.  To  the  largest 
of  these  he  g^ave  his  own  name,  C/iampluin,  by 
which  it  is  still  known.  To  the  other  he  gi>ve 
the  name  St.  Sacvi'ment^  but  whi'.'h  h  is  since 
been  called  Lake  George.  On  the  shf  re  of  the 
latter,  Cliamplain  with  his  company  was  dij- 
covc-red  by  a  party  of  the  Iroquoise.  Between 
these  Indians  and  those  at  Hochclap,a,  a  war  had 
long  subsisted,  and  a  skirmish  now  took  place. 
The  Frenchmen  were  armed  with  musqucts, 
and  Champlain  killed  two  of  the  Iroquoise  him- 
self, with  that  weapon.  This  was  probably  the 
first  time  the  Iroquoise  had  over  seen  the  effect 
of  the  European  arms,  and  the  victory  over 
them  seen\s  to  have  been  com^ileat.  The  whole 
party  were  put  to  flight,  and  the  scalps  of  fifty 
of  them  were  taken  and  carried  in  triumph  to 
Quebec. 

In  the  fall  Champlain  returned  to  France, 
iind  came  again  to  Quebec  in  16 10  ;  but  :,o 
slow  was  the  progress  of  his  colony  that  it  was 
not  till  1626  that  Quebec  began  to  assume  the 
appearatice  of  a  citj^,  or  had  any  other  fortifica- 
tions than  those  of  wood.  That  year  the  for- 
tress was  rebuilt  of  stone  ;  and  preparations 
Were  made  to  defend  the  place  not  only  against 
the  natives,  but  lest  some  of  the  European  ves- 
sels should  approach,  and  atternpt  to  carry  the 
works.  Nor  were  the  preparations  needless  :  A 
War  had  broken  out  between  Charles  I.  king  of 


HBTORY  OF  VERiMONT.        26» 


i    ; 


"ith  the 
men. 


Ciij. 


England,  and  Lewis  XIII.  king  of  France  ;  and 
as  the  English  were  carrying  on  their  settle- 
ments with  great  appearance  of  success  in  Vir- 
ginia and  Massacluisctts,  it  was  proposed  in  the 
English  cal)inet,to  attack  the  I'rench  settlements 
ill  North  America.  In  1629  an  armament  was 
fitted  out  in  Engliuid  for  this  purpose,  anil  the 
command  given  to  Sir  David  Kirk.  He  sailed 
up  the  ri\'er  St.  Lawrence  and  appeared  with  his 
ships  before  Quebec.  The  city  was  in  no  con- 
dition to  resist  his  force,  and  Champlain  was 
obliged  to  cap''  'ate.  Agreeably  to  the  articles, 
of  capitulation,  "am plain  was  sent  to  France 
in  an  English  >sl1.  If  he  was  mortified  by 
the  capitulation,  he  was  more  mortified  by  find- 
ing that  his  new  colony  was  an  object  of  but 
little  consideration  in  France  ;  and  that  tlic  loss 
of  it  was  scarcely  regretted. 

Many  thought  it  was  not  worth  retaining, 
that  it  had  already  been  attended  with  an  ex- 
pence  far  above  its  Aalue,  and  probably  the  case 
would  be  the  same  in  future.  Others  were  of 
opinion  that  the  fur  trade  and  fishery  were  na- 
tional objects  of  real  consecjuence,  and  that  the 
settlement  of  Canada  was  the  sure  method  of 
increasing  their  importance,  and  would  serve  as 
a  nursery  for  seamen,  and  thus  eventually  prove 
highly  beneficial  to  navigation  and  commerce. 
The  councils  of  Lewis  XIII.  were  so  little  ac- 
quainted with  the  advantages  arising  from  colo- 
nics, or  with  the  value  of  their  settlements  in 
Canada,  that  they  did  not  think  it  an  object  of 
any  consequence  to  demand  the  restitution  ; 
and  it  v/as  more  a  sense  of  honor  than  a  regard, 
to  interest  that  led  them  to  wish  for  the  restora- 

vot.   I.         12 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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262 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


tion  of  the  country  ;  having  lost  it  by  what  they 
esteemed  an  Ens^lish  encroachment  on  their 
claims,  pride  and  lionor  urged  the  French  court 
to  effect  tlie  recovery  of  a  country,  which  vet 
they  believed  was  of  httlc  or  no  value.  Cham- 
plain  availed  himself  of  these  sentiments  and 
feelings,  and  as  the  English  monarch  did  not 
concern  himself  much  about  the  mutter,  the  so- 
licitations  of  Champlain  prevailed  ;  and  by  the 
treaty  of  St.  Germain's,  Canada,  Acadia,  and 
Cape  Breton,  were  restored  to  France  in  the 
year  1632. 

Having  obtained  the  restoration  of  the  coun- 
try, Champiain  resumed  his  favorite  government 
and  employment,  and  continued  zealously  en- 
gaged in  the  affairs  of  the  colony  till  the  month 
of  December  1635  ;  at  v.hichtimehe  died  gov- 
ernor of  the  colon V,  of  which  twentv  seven  vears 
before  he  had  been  the  founder.  C'.^.amplain  is 
represented  by  the  writers  of  that  time,  as  a 
man  of  much  penetration,  integrity  and  activity. 
He  could  not  have  succeeded  in  founding  his 
nev/  colony,  if  he  had  not  been  active,  enterpri- 
zing,  firm  arid  brave.  The  Ecclesiastical  wri- 
ters represent  him  as  a  man  of  great  piety,  and 
remarkably  zealous  for  the  propagation  of  the 
catholic  religion  ;  and  they  record  with  great 
pleasure,  one  of  his  speeches,  that  '*  the  salvation 
of  one  soul  was  of  more  value  than  the  conquest 
of  an  empire."  The  work  in  which  he  w^is  en- 
gaged, required  great  abilities,  and  great  virtues ; 
without  these  he  could  not  have  succeeded  in 
establishing  a  new  city  and  colony  in  the  midst 
of  numerous,  warlike,  and  savage  nations.* 

•  Charlevoix  Hist.  Nauv,  France,  Tom.  1.  p.  197.    Abbe  Riynal* 
y«I.  i.  p.  1^0.  Amcr.  Biography,  Vol.  I.  p.  341- 


v,u 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      263 

Iji  all  countries,  the  succeeding  state  of  so- 
ciety seems  naturally  to  result  froitt  the  meas- 
ures and  pursuits  of  an  earlier  policy.  While 
zealously  engaged  in  promoting^  the  welfare  of 
his  new  colony,  it  was  the  misfortune  of  Cham- 
plain  to  entail  upon  it  the  miseries  and  curses  of 
war.  Three  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  savage 
nations,  the  Iroquoise,  the  Algonquins,  and  the 
Hurons,  were  engaged  in  a  fierce  and  bloody 
war  when  Champlain  was  laying  the  foundations 
of  Quebec. 

The  Iroquoise  Vv^ere  spread  over  an  extent  of 
country,  nearly  eighty  leagues  in  length,  and 
more  than  forty  in  breadth.  Their  country 
reached  to  lake  Erie,  lake  Ontario,  the  river  St. 
Lawrence,  and  the  countries  which  now  belong 
to  the  States  of  Penns}l\'anin  and  Newyork. 
To  the  eastward  it  took  in  lake  Champlain,  and 
the  western  parts  of  Vermont,  and  the  Indians 
on  the  banks  of  Susquehanna,  Delaware,  Hud- 
son, and  Connecticut  rivers,  were  in  a  kind  of 
subjection  to  them.  The  land  between  these 
extensive  limits  was  fertile,  abounded  with 
game,  and  was  watered  by  a  number  of  line 
rivers,  rich  in  the  plenty  and  variety  of  their 
fish.  The  inhabitants  consisted  of  five  nations, 
and  contained  many  thousand  warriors.  Their 
five  nations  were  formed  into  an  united  or  con- 
federate body,  which  bore  the  appearance  of  si 
number  of  confederate  republics.  In  the  grand 
council  of  the  whole  all  the  aftairs  of  peace  and 
^\  ar,  and  other  general  concerns  were  determin- 
ed. These  confederate  tribes  or  five  nations, 
formed  a  more  powerful  body  than  any  of  the 
adjacent  nations.     They  were  generally  at  war 


I 


II  I 


>.  -I] 


?.  -.1  :    I 


l!  : 


I ' 


W^ 


i 


r! 


■^■■. 


i'^';I 


HI  ( 


:'■*( 


i 


I 


m 


•  # 


M  n 


.r'i:.i 


I 


St64, 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


with  the  neighboring  tribes,  and  on  account  of 
their  numbers,  power,  and  conquests,  were 
become  the  objects  of  fear,  dread,  and  aversion, 
to  the  other  nations.  At  the  time  Avhen  the 
French  were  forming  their  colon}'  in  Canada, 
the  five  nations  of  the  Iroquoise  were  engaged 
in  a  war  with  the  Algonquins  and  liurons. 
The  Algonquins  lived  i'long  the  banks  of  the 
rivei-  from  Quebec  to  Montreal.  I'he  Hurons 
were  dispersed  about  the  lake  that  bears  their 
name.  These,  with  some  other  tribes  of  less 
consequence,  had  suffered  seAxrely  from  the 
inroads  of  the  Iroquoise  ;  and  w  ere  unable  to 
make  effectual  opposition  to  their  arms. 

Instead  of  attempting  to  introduce  a  recon- 
ciliation among  these  hostile  nations,  Chnm- 
plain  meaning  to  avail  himself  of  their  quarrels, 
soon  enffasced  in  their  wars.  He  took  a  decided 
part  with  the  Algonquins,  and  went  himself 
with  the  Hurons  in  their  expeditions  agayist  the 
Iroquoise  :  He  instructed  them  ho  .v  to  carry 
on  their  wars,  was  personally  engage  d  in  several 
of  their  battles,  and  in  one  of  them  received  a 
wound  not  a  little  dangerous  to  his  life. 

The  Indians  saw  with  wonder  and  surprise 
the  effect  of  the  European  arms,  in  the  attacks 
which  Champlain  luid  made  upon  the  Iroquoise 
at  lake  Sacrament,  and  other  places.  The  AU 
gonquins  and  Hurons  soon  gave  a  friendly  at^ 
tention  to  the  new^  settlers,  and  meant  by  their 
assistance  to  gain  the  superiority  over  their  an- 
cient and  haughty  foes.  Of  course  they  favor-, 
cd  the  settlement  of  the  French,  gave  tliem 
lands,  courted  their  friendship,  and  invited  them 
to  settle  in  eycry'  part  of  their  country  ;  and  by 


11  ' 


r  :/(.<! 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.      265 

their  assistance  they  obtained  many  and  repeat- 
ed advantages  over  the  Iroquoisc.  Nor  v  as  it 
until  the  five  nations  became  accustomed  to  the 
effect  of  the  European  arms,  tliat  they  could 
mnke  any  effectual  opposition  to  an  enemy, 
whom  they  had  before  defeated  and  despised. 
But  instead  of  being  subdued  or  disheartened 
by  the  new  method  of  war,  it  served  rather  to 
inflame  the  haughty  Iroquoise  with  the  fiercest 
resentment  against  the  French.  They  viewed 
the  strangers  who  were  settling  in  the  country, 
as  the  most  dangerous  of  all  their  enemies ;  and 
it  became  the  first  and  most  important  of  all 
objects  to  carry  on  a  destructive,  unceasing, 
and  exterminating  war  with  them. 

The  French  were  gradually  extending  their 
settlements  upon  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  and 
advancing  further  and  further  into  the  Indian 
country.  In  about  ten  }  ears  from  the  settle- 
ment of  Quebec,  they  began  the  foundations  of 
a  fort  and  village  at  Trois  Rivieres  ;  and  in 
1640  they  begaii  a  fortress  and  town  at  Mon- 
treal. Wherever  they  went,  they  assisted  and 
encouraged  the  Algonquins  ;  and  they  met 
with  a  steady  and  bitter  enemy  in  the  Iroquoise. 
The  hostile  Indian  nations  were  an  enemy, 
which  the  fire  nations  wished  to  subdue  ;  but 
the  French  were  every  where 'the  chosen  vic- 
tims, and  the  objects  of  their  inveterate  hatred. 
To  have  taught  a  despised  enemy  how  to  con- 
quer, to  have  introduced  among  them  weapons 
every  way  superior  to  their  own,  were  crimes 
which  the  fierce  and  savage  temper  of  the 
haughtiest  of  all  the  Indian  nations,  could  not 
forgive  or  endure.    Thus  by  interfering  in  tlic 


i!' 


t(  < 


R'. 


.1 


■  ■'/ 


:l» 


l". 


Ill' 


T  I 


il  '"- 


ri 


f-1 


» 


''tl 


rv    ■ 


^' 


■4  l^'.:f'^    , 

r 


(!■' 


'^i  r'Ji: 


I  .1 


'Vm 


r? 


, 


v\V 

1 

k^ 

*266 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 


quarrels  of  llie  natives,  the  French  had  brought 
upon  themselves  a  fierce  and  bloody  war,  with 
the  nio-'it  powerful  of  all  the  Indian  nations  ;  and 
produced  an  enmit}%  which  appeared  to  be  fix- 
ed, i)ernianent,  and  obdurate  ;  and  such  as  the 
revenging  spirit  would  endeavor  to  transmit 
I'rom  one  generation  to  another. 

I-v  tlie  destruction  occasioned  by  these 
'wars,  in  the  coldness  of  the  climate,  in  the  im- 
mense quantity  of  labor  necessary  to  cftect  the 
settlement  of  the  country,  and  in  tlie  fewness 
and  poverty  of  the  Eurojoeans,  there  were  caus- 
es which  rendered  the  French  settlements  ex-- 
treincly  slow  in  their  growth,  and  very  precari- 
ous as  to  their  duration.  In  addition  to  these 
difficulties,  the  five  nations  were  now  become 
accustomed  to  the  eft'ect  of  the  European  arms, 
had  procured  some  of  them,  and  regained  their 
customary  superiority  over  their  ancient  ene- 
mies. Surrounded  with  so  many  difficulties, 
the  French  were  full  of  apprehensions  that  the 
time  was  not  far  distant,  when  thev  should  be 
forced  to  abandon  the  country.  Their  Indian 
allies  w^hom  they  had  once  taught  to  conquer, 
were  now  continualiv  flvini?:  before  their  ancient 
enemies,  whom  they  had  been  accustomed  to 
dread.  And  the  Iroquoise,  feeling  the  anima- 
tion of  their  regained  superiority,  were  become 
more  fierce  and  ipsolent  than  ever  :  and  were 
loudly  boasting  that  they  would  not  only  sub- 
due their  former  eciemies,  but  that  they  would 
soon  force  the  Frei;ch  to  leave  their  country,  or 
put  them  all  to  death. 

In  this  distress  the  court  of  France  interfere 
ed  to  save  tlie  colony.    A  body  of  four  hun- 


aught 

with 

and 

»e  fix- 

s  the 

ismit 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT,       2G7 

cirecl  good  troops  were  sent  from  Franec,  In  the 
year  1662;  and  these,  in  two  year'-^  more,  \\'cre  re- 
inforced Vv'ith  the  regiment  of  Carignan.  With 
this  force,  the  eouraj^-e  and  liopes  of  tlie  colony 
revived.  M.  Courccllcs,  the  governor  of  Cana- 
da, supposed  it  would  liave  a  good  ellect,  to 
carry  the  war  into  the  country  of  their  enemies  : 
WiUi  this  view  in  1665  he  sent  out  a  large  par- 
ty against  the  Mohav/ks,  one  of  the  five  nations. 
The  expedition  was  undertaken  in  the  winter  : 
Through  ignorance  of  the  country,  and  the  Avant 
of  pro]::er  snow-shoes,  the  whole  army  were  Jiear 
perishing,  v.hen  they  accidentally  fell  in  Vv ith 
Schenectadv)  a  Dutch  settlement  on  the  Mo- 
hawk  river.  At  Schenectady,  the  whole  party- 
were  in  the  utm.ost  danger  of  being  destroyed 
hy  the  Mohawks.  What  prevented,  was  the 
interposition  of  one  Corlcar,  a  Dutchiman.  And 
such  an  inapression  was  made  on  the  minds  of 
the  Indians,  by  the  preservation  which  this  man 
had  afforded  them,  that  they  never  forgot  either 
his  friendship,  or  his  name.  In  all  tlieir  trea- 
ties e\ei-  after,  with  the  governors  of  Newyork, 
they  alvays  addressed  them  by  the  name  of 
Corlcar  ;  an  expression,  in  their  view,  signifi- 
cant of  kindness,  friendship,  and  confidence. 

To  retrieve  the  misfortunes  of  their  winter 
expedition,  in  the  spring  of  1666,  twenty  light 
companies  of  foot,  with  all  the  militia  of  Cana- 
da, marched  into  the  Mohawk  countrv.  Their 
march  was  attended  with  great  expencc,  and 
fatigue  ;  and  (,ontinued  for  more  than  seven 
hundred  miles,  through  an  uncultivated  and 
hostile  country  ;  but  did  not  prove  destructive 
of  many  of  their  enemies.     At  the  approach  of 


,  '..  'j  V  1} 


i 


i'l 


if" 


:  > 


;  -ill^ 


ii 


h9\ 


.-.f 


m 


'.  ! 


;».^*.,  i 


* 


;i:"'ih^:|- 


U    ' 


1 


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f 


f..t 


' 


1.1  I 


!1- 


266 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


the  French,  the  Indians  easily  found  places  of 
safety,  by  retiring-  into  the  woods  and  s\vanij).s, 
where  the  French  army  could  not  follow  llu.'ni. 
Nothing  was  ^o  be  found  but  a  few  of  their  old 
sachems,  who  were  su])er-annuated  and  weary 
of  their  lives,  to  i^ratify  the  fury  of  their  ene- 
mies. The  result  however  ,vas  favorable  to 
both  parties.  Tl>e  French,  exhausted  with  the 
exigence  and  fatigue  of  the  cami)aign,  and  mor- 
tified by  the  want  of  success,  did  not  wish  to 
repeat  the  expcrin\cnt  of  anoiher  expedition  hi 
the  Indian  country.  The  Indians  were  not 
pleased  to  sec  the  war  brought  into  the  heart  of 
their  own  country,  nor  could  they  yet  oppose  a 
large  body  of  men  armed  and  disciplined  in  the 
European  manner,  with  much  prospect  of  suc- 
cess. While  both  parties  thus  wished  to  ])ut  an 
end  to  hostilities,  it  would  not  be  diflicult  to 
iind  reasons,  ^va^  s,  and  means,  to  effect  a  recon- 
ciliation. In  this  disposition  of  their  minds, 
they  agreed  to  put  an  end  to  their  wars  ;  and  in 
the  year  1G67,  concluded  a  treaty  of  peace, 
which  continued  for  several  vears. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  the  French  co- 
lony had  ever  enjoyed  a  compleat  peace.  Both 
the  English  and  the  French  immediately  em- 
braced the  opportunity  to  conciliate  the  affec- 
tions,  and  to  cultivate  a  trade  among  the  na- 
tives ;  and  their  interest  lead  them  to  urge  it, 
with  much  zeal  and  address.  At  that  time  the 
trade  with  the  natives  was  attended  ^^  ith  much 
profit  and  advantage  to  all  parties.  The  French 
in  Canada,  and  the  English  at  Albany  and  Sche- 
nectady, were  as  \  et  too  remote  from  each  oth- 
er, and  too  few  iu  numbers,  to  occasion  anj 


1:.: 


VU.!' 


I'.    :|J 


ttlStORY  OF    VERMONT.       26^ 

consklcral^lc  differences,  or  interference  in  the 
indium  tradf .  Add  the  Indians  who  lived  be- 
tween tiic  two  countries,  availed  thctnselves  of 
the  ijest  markets  und  t'-rins  which  i\v:y  could 
find  ;  assertini^  in  a  wii^e  and  practical  manner 
the  doctrine  of  then  independence,  liberty,  and 
equality  with  any  of  the  European  colonies. 
M.  Courcellcs  however  was  not  inactive  during 
this  season  of  peace.  He  easily  foresaw  that  a 
pea.:e  with  the  savages,  ccAild  be  of  but  a  short 
duration  ;  and  he  was  extremely  active  in  ma- 
king preparations  for  the  future  defence  of 
Canada.  To  prevent  the  irruptions  of  the  Iro- 
quoise  into  Canada,  by  the  way  of  lake  Cham- 
plain,  in  1665  he  built  the  forts  of  Chambly 
and  Sorel  ;  both  on  the  waters  by  which  the 
communication  is  kept  up  between  the  lake, 
and  the  river  St.  Lawrence.  In  1672,  under 
pretence  of  a  treaty  of  commerce,  but  with  a 
design  to  effect  an  establishment,  which  should 
serve  to  restrain  or  subdue  the  Algonquins  and 
Hurons,  he  obtained  their  leave  to  build  a  fort 
at  Cadaraqui  ou  lake  Ontario.  His  successor. 
Count  Frontenac,  compleated  the  works  the 
next  spring  ;  and  in  1679,M.  de  Salle  inclosed! 
with  pallisadoes  a  spot  of  ground  at  Niagara, 
upon  the  strait  which  forms  the  commuuicatioii 
between  the  lakes  Ontario  and  Erie.  Such  was 
the  origin  of  those  fortresses,  which  have  since 
occaioned  so  much  expence  of  blood  and  treas- 
ure. 

To  this  period,  the  wars  in  Canada  had  been 
confined  to  the  French  and  the  natives  ;  neither 
the  Dtitch  or  the  English  colonies  had  been  en- 
j^agcd  or  concerned  in  them.     Albany,  and  all 

VOL.  i>         K  2 


t 


'U  i: 


'  -  • 


(i  • 


•1^1.!  .  ^ 


Ill': 


H 


n 


!' 


If 


■  ■.: 


// 


t^:| 


:l: 


'1  ■      / 


l,l  fi , 


'      ■> 


li 


270 


NATUUAL  AND  CIVIL 


the  northern  settlements  on  Hudson's  river,  had 
been  conducted  by  the  Dutch.  That  people, 
inclined  most  of  all  to  commerce,  had  so  niana- 
ged  the  Indians  as  to  secure  their  friendship, 
derive  much  profit  from  their  trade,  and  hadal- 
ways  avoided  any  contests,  or  at  least  any  open 
hostilities  with  them.  In  1664,  the  whole  coun- 
try, called  at  tjiat  time  New  Netherlands,  was 
surrendered  to  the  crown  of  England.  Tlie 
country  assumed  the  name  of  New  York,  and 
was  governed  by  authority  derived  from  the 
king  of  England.  The  Indians  who  lived  be- 
tween the  settlements  in  New  York  and  Canada, 
traded  with  either  as  best  suited  their  conven- 
ience or  interest.  But  from  this  intercourse 
they  soon  found  that  the  English  and  French 
were  far  from  being  friends  ;  that  they  were 
often  at  war  with  each  other,  and  \\'ere  ahvays 
rivals  in  trade.  With  the  spirit  of  sound  policy 
they  endeavored  to  avail  themselves  of  this  state 
of  things,  and  to  procure  from  the  English  a 
plentiful  supply  of  that  kind  of  arms  and  am- 
munition, which  had  been  so  successfully  em- 
ployed against  them  ;  and  which  could  alone 
be  applied  to  the  greatest  advantage  in  all  the 
purposes  of  war  and  hunting.  At  the  same 
time  they  resolved  to  preserve  their  own  inde- 
pendence and  importance,  by  trading  with,  or 
favoring  either,  as  their  own  interest  might  dic- 
tate. 

The  English  and  the  French  colonies  were 
both  aware  of  the  Indian  temper  and  policy,- 
and  they  were  anxious  to  secure  the  Indian 
friendship  and  trade.  It  became  of  course 
tlieir  interest  and  endeavour  to  impart  their  own 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT, 


27i 


maxims  and  prejudices,  to  the  savages  ;  and  to 
attach  them  as  much  as  possiblt  to  their  own 
nation,  views,  and  party.     As  war  had  now 
ceased,  this  was  the  time  to  try  >vhat  could  be 
done  by  the   councils,  measures  and  arts  of 
policy  and  insinuation.     In  this  kind  of  manoeu- 
vering,  or  Indian  courtship,  the  French  had  the 
most  address  and  success.     They  not  only  sent 
their  traders,  but  they  sent  their  Priests  to  re- 
side among  the  Indian  tribes.     The  missiona- 
ries, educated  in  all  the  knowledge  of  Europe, 
studied  the  Indian  temper  and  character ;  and 
soon  became  well  acquainted  with  their  busi- 
ness.    Their  superior  knowledge  and  address 
gave  a  direction  to  the  courcils  and  measure« 
of  the  savages  ;  their  acquai  itance  with  medi- 
cal and  chirurgical  subjects,  qualified  them  to 
become  their  physicians  and  surgeons  ;  I'ront 
their  knowledge  in  the  arts  of  life,  the  Indians 
were  daily  instructed  in  their  rude  attainments 
of  fishing,  agriculture,  and  making  their  cabins 
aud  weapons.      To  gain  their  affections,  the 
fathers  were  distinguished  by  their  attention  to 
all  the  offices  of  humanity  ;  and  to  these  were 
added  the  arts  and  influence  of  superstition,  as 
a  still  more  effectual  means  of  gaining  an  ascen- 
dency over  the  savage  mind.    In  this  kind  of 
management  the  Jesuits  were  most  of  all  distin- 
guished :    And  it  does  not  appear  that  in  any- 
other  order  of  clergy,  so  much  knowledge  of 
science,  of  business,  of  men,  of  human  life  and 
conduct,  were  ever  so  well  united.     Wherever 
they  were  sent  they  met  with  great  success  ;  and 
when  their  manners  und  conduct  were  compar- 
ed witli  the  auk  ward  and  disgusting  manners  of 


"   '11 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


the  English  missionaries,  tlic  natives  concluded 
that  the  Jcouits  were  the  men  who  were  the  la 
voritcs  of  the  Great  Spirit  al^'ve  ;  and  lh.it  he 
iieitiicr  did  or  would  work  mneh  b}  the  oilier 
missionaries  ;  cst  eeiaily  Ijy  the  fori-n-l,  nnac- 
comn.oduting',  nietaplnsieid  Enghsh  Priesis. 

To  this  infiuenecand  instij^atioti  olthe  Freneh 
priests,  the  Enf^Ti.^h  aseiihed  the  eoniniencc. 
ment  of  hostilities  which  took  place  in  the  year 
1683,  on  tI)C  back  parts  of  Virginia  and  I^jary- 
land,  by  some  of  the  li^e  nations.  This  was 
the  first  time  that  any  of  those  nations  had  ev- 
er been  engaged  aj^ainst  the  Lnglish  ;  an.d  the 
prospect  of  a  war  with  the  Irofjuoise,  oceah.ion- 
ed  a  most  serious  alarm  to  the  country.  If 
they  had  proved  so  fcKmidable  to  the  French, 
when  the)  had  only  their  bows,  arrows,  ai:d 
clubs,  P  was  eoriciuded  tliey  must  prove  a  most 
formidable  enemy  now,  when  they  were  gener- 
ally armed  with  guns  und  hatchets,  and  knew 
hcv/  to  use  them.  To  guard  against  so  dan- 
gerous &n  €vent,  a  genera.l  cor.venticn  of  tiie 
jinglish  colonies  was  held  nt  Albany  in  the 
year  1C84.  Lord  Howard,  governor  of  \'i]gini:i, 
w  as  present.  Col.  Dongan,  governor  of  New 
York,  rind  other  influential  characters  attended. 
The  convention  succeeded  in  a\erting  thr  r  'oi m. 
Howard,  as  President,  made  a  treaty  wiih  the 
five  nations,  and  entered  into  a  plan  of  peace, 
trade,  and  alliance.  This  coveiiant  was  again 
confirmed  in  1685,  and  has  been  renewed  at 
several  other  times,  since  that  j  eriod. 

While  the  convention  of  the  English  colo- 
nies Avere  engaged  in  thi^  treaty  with  the  five 
nations,  an  event  took  place,  which  tended  to 


HISTORY  OF  VF.RMONT.        2';!{ 

p;lvc  it  surcf'ss  nnd  tfiicncy.  A  mrsHciip;cr  ar- 
rivcrl  from  M.  dc  Barrc,  tn)\(rrf)r  yjf  C'tinada, 
co'.TTjihiinin^  that  lliu  hidiims  of  ihc  S'^Dcca  tribe 
liiul  interrupted  tlu-  Frencii,  in  liu  ir  trLuli.*  with 
the  more  distant  niitions.  'l'i»e  Seneciis  admit- 
ted the  cliarj^e,  but  coniphiined  in  their  turn 
th;'t  the  rVencli  had  supplied  some  of  tlie  Indiaa 
tribes  with  a\ lioni  th.cy  w t>re  at  war,  m ith  arms 
and  .•im:nunition.  And  it  becanK*  known  tliat 
witiie  Do  Bare  Wiis  amusinj^  tlic  governor  of 
N'.vv  York,  and  the  Irofjuoise  with  these  eom- 
plaints  he  wa^i  making;  kuj^e  jireparations  for 
the  ciiiire  destruction  of  the  five  nations.  That 
nothin.f^'  iviight  oc  wanting  to  secure  success  to 
hi:,  measures,  h.e  had  procured  fresh  troops  from 
France  ;  and  a  letter  of  instructions  from  the 
Duke  of  York,  proprietor  of  tljc  province,  to 
Col.  Dongan  his  governor,  enjoining  him  not 
to  opr:)se  J:.  French  proceedir.gs.  Thus  pre- 
pared, Dc  Biirrc  proceeded  ^vith  an  army  of 
seventeen  hundred  men  to  lake  Ontario  ;  and 
sent  to  all  the  ofliccrs  in  the  western  posts,  to 
C0i!tct  all  the  Indians  they  could  in  the  upper 
pu;  ts  of  the  country,  and  rendezvous  at  Niagara. 
The  interference  l>e.tween  the  Fuglish  aiud 
French  colonies  in  the  affairs  of  the  Indians, 
though  not  avowed,  had  resolved  itself  into  a 
steady  opposition  for  several  years  ;  and  was 
now  assuming  the  aspect  of  a  regular  national 
policy.  Dongan  had  been  appointed  governor 
of  New  York  in  the  year  1682  ;  and  was  the 
first  PLnglish  governor  that  saw  the  advantages, 
which  might  arise  from  the  Indian  commerce 
and  alliance.  Aware  of  De  Bane's  measure^ 
and  designs,  he  (Jis^regarded  the  orders  which 


i 


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'I 'I  ( I 


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ii 

ff74         NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 

he  had  received  from  the  Duke  of  York  ;  an. 
nounced  to  the  Indians  the  designs  and  prepa- 
rations of  the  French,  and  promised  to  afford 
them  his  assistance.  Encouraged  by  these  ad- 
vances from  the  governor  of  New  York,  the 
five  nations  became  more  and  more  attached  to 
the  EngHsh,  and  prepared  to  make  a  vigorous 
defence. 

At  fort   Frontenac,   De  Barre  was  detained 
.six  weeks  in  want  of  provisions  and  recruits. 
During  this  delay,  a  distressing  sickness  broke 
out  in  his  camp,  occasioned  chiefly  by  the  bad- 
ness of  his  provisions.     Incapable  of  carrying 
on  war  in  an  enemy *s    country    with   a    dis- 
eased  army,   he   now   wished    to   adjust    his 
operations  to  the  purpose  of  concluding  a  trea- 
ty of  peace.     With  this  view  he  crossed  lake 
Ontario,  and  came  to  a  place,  which  on  ac- 
count of  the  distress  of  his  army  was  called  la 
Famine,      Dongan   received  intelligence  of  all 
his  movements,  and  labored  to  prevent  the  In- 
dians from  attending  his  proposed  treaty,     Two 
of  the  five  nations,  the  Mohawks  &  Senecas  were 
dissuaded,  and  refused  to  join.      The   other 
three,  the  Oneydoes,  the  Onondagoes,  and  the 
Cayugas,  were   influenced  by  the  French  mis- 
sionaries ;    but   were     unwilling  to   hear   the 
French  interpreter,  unless   it  should  be  in  the 
presence  of  the  priests,  to  whom  they  had  been 
much  attached.     Matters  were  at  length  par- 
tially adjusted,  and  the  sachems  of  three  of  the 
tribes  agreed  to  meet  the  French  governor.— 
Two  days  after  tlieir  arrival  in  the  French  camp^ 
the  council  was  opened.     De  Barre  attended  by 
a  circle  of  French  officers  andlndians,  addr^sged 


U^ild^^  hi.  I 


f'!  initn:: 


tilSTORY  OF  VERMONT.        273 

a  speech  to  Garrangula,  an  Onondago  chief:  In  his 
jspeech  he  told  the  Indians  that  he  did  not  come 
into  their  country  for  the  purposes  of  war,  that 
his  aims  were  ahogetlier  pacific,  and  that  he 
had  no  other  wishes  or  designs,  but  to  concUide 
Xvith  them  a  treaty  Of  peace  and  perpCwUal  friend- 
ship. Gclrrangula  feplied,  that  he  had  heard 
and  considered  \\h  talk,  and  did  not  believe  it ; 
that  he  knew  that  he  ci^me  into  their  country  to 
destroy  them  all  ;  that  the  great  Spirit  had  put 
it  out  of  his  power,  and  that  the  Indians  per- 
fectly Well  knew  the  distresses  of  the  French 
army  ;  that  notwithstanding  all  their  boasting, 
they  were  the  objects  of  compassion,  rather 
than  fear  ;  but  notwithstanding  they  would  go 
so  far  as  to  make  a  treaty  with  them.*^  Mor- 
tified and  provoked  at  the  bold  and  sensible 
answer  of  a  savage,  whom  he  meant  to  have 
despised  and  destroyed,  De  Barre  was  obliged 
to  conceal  his  resentment,  and  his  fear.  No- 
thing remained  but  to  conclude  the  best  treaty 
the  savages  would  admit  ;  and  he  retired  to 
Montreal,  mortified  with  the  expence,  the  want 
cf  success,  and  the  disappointment  that  had  at- 
tended every  part  of  the  expedition  ;  and  not 
at  all  pleased  with  the  terms  or  extent  of  the 
treaty  v^^hich  he  had  obtained. 

M.  de  Barre  returned  to  France  ;  and  the 
marquis  De  Nonvillc  being  appointed  to  suc- 
ceed him  in  the  government  of  Canada,  arrived 
at  Quebec  in  1685.  The  marquis  was  colo- 
nel of  a  regiment  of  dragoons,  of  an  active  and 
enterprizing  turn  of  mind  ;  and  was  appointed 

•Appendix  No.  VI. 


t' .'  ll^::  P 


.' 


i 


I    !■.  s- 


^Im^ 


i 
I  - 


'  1 


,\'i;s^?f 


Vii 


!  i'. 


^: 


11 


^!i  V 


U 


^; 


I 


i( 


i  m 


1^      ■.•,,! 


It 


.J 


I 


^76 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


fnr  tlie  rin'pose  of  removing  tlie  disasters  and 
dl.-;";r..r.:;:i, which  came  upon  the  colony  in  the  time 
of  its  former  goveiJior.  As  soon  i-.sDc  Nonville 
was  become  acquainted  witji  tiiC  afl'airs  oiihe  col- 
ony, he  wrote;  to  cardinal  Klc'^Jieu,  the  French 
ininister,  urL;'inj^  a  plan  to  enlr.ruc  and  strenp^th- 
ien  the  works  at  Nia^.!:ar:t,  to  exclude  the  En- 
tfii-li  altoQ-cthci-  from  the  Jakes,  to  ei'2Toss  the 
whole  of  the  furr  trade^,  and  to  subdue  the  five 
nations  ;  and  immediately  berran  his  operations 
by  tlu'owinsj^  larj^e  supplies  of  troops  and  provi- 
sions into  fort  I'roirtenac. 

The  p^overnor  of  New- York  watched  all  his 
proceedings,  an.d  was  very  suspicious  of  his 
designs.  He  wrote  to  him  that  the  five  nations 
were  his  friends  and  allies,  and  that  an  attack 
upon  them  would  l^e  considered  as  a  breach  of 
the  peace  whicii  subsisted  between  the  En- 
glish and  the  French  crowns.  He  objected  to 
his  sending  so  powerful  a  force  to  fort  Fronte- 
nac,  and  protested  against  his  building  a  foit  at 
Niagara  ;  claiming  that  part  of  the  country,  as 
a  part  of  the  province  of  New- York.  In  his 
answer,  De  Nonville  denied  any  intention  of 
invadinf:^  the  five  nations,  but  claimed  the  coun- 
try  at  Niagara,  as  belonging  to  the  French 
crown.  Dongan  placed  no  confidence  in  the 
declarations  of  the  marquis  :  Aware  of  his  pre^ 
parations  and  designs,  and  of  the  importance  of 
the  Indian  alliance  and  commerce,  he  exerted 
his  iniiuence  to  encourage  and  prepare  the  con- 
federate tribes  for  war  ;  and  was  constantly  at 
Work  to  make  all  the  opposition  in  his  power, 
short  of  actual  hostilities,  to  the  plans  and  pro- 
ceedings of  the  French  governor. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      277 

Th  e  five  nations,  at  that  time,  had  been  for- 
tunate in  their  victories  over  some  of  the  Indi- 
an tribes  with  which  they  were  at  war ;  and 
with  whom,  the  French  had  carried  on  a  lucra- 
tive trade.  To  put  an  end  to  their  triumphs, 
and  to  the  obstruction  which  they  gave  to  the 
French  trade,  De  Nonville  determined  to  carry 
War  into  their  own  country.  To  effect  these 
purposes,  in  1687,  he  assembled  a  body  of  two 
thousand  French  troops,  and  six  hundred  Indi- 
ans at  Montreal  ;  and  directed  all  the  officers 
in  the  upper  parts  of  the  country  to  meet  him 
at  Niagara,  with  all  the  force  that  they  could 
collect.  While  these  preparations  were  taking 
place,  hostilities  were  commenced.  Two  par- 
ties of  the  English,  who  were  trading  on  the 
lakes  were  seized  by  the  French,  their  effects 
were  confiscated,  and  their  persons  imprisoned. 
A  French  officer  with  two  or  three  hundred 
men,  had  surprized  two  villages  of  the  confede- 
rates, whom  they  liad  invited  to  settle  in  their 
country  :  And  so  anxious  were  the  French  to 
prevent  any  of  these  Indians  from  escaping,  and 
carrying  the  intelligence  to  their  countt-ymen, 
that  they  were  all  conveyed  to  fort  Frontenac. 
In  the  treatment  of  these  captives,  the  French 
exceeded  the  barbarities  of  the  savage  tribes  : 
All  the  captives,  thirteen  excepted,  were  burnt 
at  tl;e  stake  ;  a  id  spent  their  last  moments  in 
singing  with  an  heroic  and  undaunted  ^irit, 
the  baseness  and  perfidy  of  the  French.  The 
rest,  by  the  particular  order  of  Lewis  XIV* 
were  put  in  irons,  sent  to  Quebec,  embarked 
from  thence  to  France,  and  there  put  on  board 
the  gallies. 

VOL.  I        L  2 


'  i' 


i 


•  { 


)' 


I    : 


r  I 


VI 


I 
i 


■'    !, 


:l, 


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r  ' 


^) 


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:    n 


T^yr.rfSfirr 


rv   * 


vit 


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uti 


- 


I 


278 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Hostilities  being  commenced,  the  intcf- 
<ests  of  the  French  colony  now  reqr.ired  vigorotia 
^animated  cxcrtiony.  De  Nonville  was  not  de- 
ficient In  coiirnij^e  or  enterprise.  On  the  twen- 
ty third  of  June  he  embarked  his  whole  army 
in  canoes,  and  r,ct  out  from  fort  Cadaraqiii ;  one 
half  proceeded  on  tlie  nortli,  and  the  other  half 
inarched  on  the  south  side  of  the  Oneida  lake. 
They  met  the  same  day,  at  the  place  appointed 
for  their  rendezvous,  seven  leagues  from  the 
chief  village  of  the  Senccas.  The  Indi'ins  were 
placed  in  the  front,  and  rear  ;  the  main  body, 
consisting  of  the  regulars  and  militia,  were  kept 
together  in  a  regular  form.  On  the  second  day 
of  their  march  the  scouts  arrived  at  the  corn- 
fields of  the  Senecas,  and  widiin  pistol  shot  of 
five  hundred  of  the  warriors' of  that  nation,  who 
lay  on  their  bellies  undiscovered.  The  French 
concluded  that  the  Senecaswere  all  Red,  and  were 
in  full  march  to  overtake  the  old  men,  the  wo- 
men, and  children.  In  this  state  of  rapid  move- 
ment, and  high  expectation,  they  arrived  at  the 
bottom  of  an  hill,  within  one  mile  of  the  Sene- 
ca village.  In  a  moment  the  war- shout  and 
yell  of  the  Senecas,  was  heaid  from  every  side  ; 
and  the  French  army  was  attacked  from  every 
quarter*  The  whole  army  was  struck  with  sur- 
prise and  horror,  and  ujniversal  confusion  ensu- 
ed. The  regulars  and  militia  seized  with  the  pa- 
nic, could  neither  preserve  their  order  or  exert 
their  force  to  any  advantage.  One  battallion 
fired  upon  another,  and  all  endeavored  to  fly 
into  the  woods.  Expecting  such  a  scene,  the 
Senecas  rushed  on  widi  impetuosity  to  increase 
tlie  confusion ;  and  woul4  have  compleated  the 


!j 


!       t 


I^m:. 


«'.' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        270 

defeat  of  the  whole  army  had  it  not  been  preven- 
ted by  the  superior  prowess  of  the  French  Indi- 
ans. Accustomed  to  such  scenes,  tlKiy  under- 
stood the  business,  and  .the  outrage  of  an  Indi- 
an attack  ;  rallied  their  forces,  rushed  on  to  the 
attack,  repulsed  the  Senecas,  and  saved  the  army 
of  the  French. 

So  dispirited  was  the  French  general  by  this 
unexpected  and  alarming  onset,  that  he  could  not 
be  pursuaded  to  make  any  further  attempts  that 
dave  or  even  to  pursue  the  retreating  enemy, 
Wiiile  he  was  collecting  his  spirits  and  his 
troops,  the  Senecas  burnt  their  town  and  mar- 
ched off  with  safety  into  the  woods  ;  leaving 
nothing  but  two  of  their  oldest  men,  for  the 
French  to  kill  and  torture.  All  the  exploits  that 
remained  for  De  Nonville,  was  to  burn  the 
cornfields  belonging  to  the  Indian  village,  and 
make  captives  of  the  two  old  men.  Having 
compleated  this  business  he  marched  his  army 
back  to  lake  Ontario  ;  and  erected  a  fort  on 
the  strait  at  Niagara.  To  preserve  this  fort,  he 
left  a  garrison  of  one  hundred  men;  all  of  which, 
except  seven  or  eight  who  escaped,  being  close- 
ly blocked  up  by  the  Senecas,  perished  in  a  few 
months  by  famine. 

Receiving  intelligence  of  tiie  event  ofDr 
Nonville's  expedition,  the  governor  of  New- 
York  concerted  measures  to  avail  himself  of  the 
power  and  friendship  of  the  Indians.  For  this 
purpose  he  repaired  to  Albany,  and  had  a  con- 
ference with  the  five  nations  in  the  month  of 
August.  His  speech  on  that  occasion  was  well 
adapted  to  secure  their  confidence  and  depen- 
daiice.     He  rejoiced,  he   told  them,  that  they 


J    1 


>  ( 

» 


iM  '■ 


• .  "I 


1' 


n 


i-n 


H. 


'i  : 


i'  J: 


1i 


4l.  .         ) 


'■i 


ii 


i- 


¥li 


280 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


had  not  suffered  a  greater  loss  by  the  French, 
whose  designs  iind#ibtedly  were  to  destroy 
them  all  ;  and  that  he  would  provide  them  with 
such  necessajrics  as  they  wanted.  He  advised 
them  not  to  destroy  their  captives^  but  to  keep 
them  as  prisonCis,  for  the  rcdeiiiption  of  their 
own  countrymen  whom  the  French  had  taken  : 
To  keep  up  a  correspondence  with  him  as  to  all 
their  designs  and  measures  ;  to  send  away  the 
French  priests  from  their  country  ;  to  point 
out  a  place  on  Lake  Ontario,  where  he  might 
build  a  fort  to  supply  them  with  stores  and  pro- 
visions ;  and  above  all  not  to  pretend  to  make 
any  treaties  with  the  French,  but  by  his  advice 
and  consent.*  These  measures  and  speeches 
of  Dongan  served  to  encourage  and  animate 
the  Indians.  Soon  after  a  considerable  party  of 
them  beset  the  French  fort  at  Chamblj^,  bur- 
ned several  of  the  houses,  and  returned  to  Alba- 
ny with  a  considerable  number  of  captives'*.  A- 
bout  the  same  time  forty  of  the  Onondagoes  sur- 
prised  some  of  the  French  soldiers  at  fort  Fron- 
tmac,  whom  they  confined  and  reser\cd  for 
the  redemption  of  their  countrymen,  who  had 
been  sent  to  the  gallies.  Great  pains  were  ta- 
ken to  recover  these  Frenchmen  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  Indians.  The  French  priests  intei'posed  to 
persuade  the  savages  to  treat  them  with  kind- 
ness, and  return  them  to  their  countrymen  ; 
and  a  message  was  sent  to  the  governor  of  New 
York,  to  engage  his  influence  in  the  affatr, 
Dongan  informed  the  governor  of  Canada  that 
Bo  peace  could  be  made  with  the  five  nations^ 

'  •Smith's  Hist.  New-Ycrk,  p.  6^ 


:.!*' 


);^  ^v^^  \ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       281 

unless  the  Indians  which  had  been  sent  to  the 
gallies  were  returned,  thef^rts  at  Frontenacand 
Niagara  demolished,  and  satisfaction  given  ibr 
the  damages  which  had  been  done  to  the  Senc. 

eas. 

In  this  situation  of  the  French  affairs,  Don- 
gan  hopcll  to  compleat  his  favorite  plan  of  poli- 
cy ;  to  compel  both  the  French  and  the  Indians 
to  apply  to  him,  in  all  their  aftairs  of  peace  and 
war.  He  had  nearly  effected  his  plan  with  the 
Indians  ;  but  the  French  governors  were  jealous 
of  his  desjgns,  and  wished  to  treat  with  the  In- 
dians, as  a  nation  independent  of  the  English 
crown  or  colonies.  It  was  however  in  Don/ 
gan's  power  from  the  situation  of  the  French 
colony  at  that  time,  to  force  it  into  such  kind  of 
concessions  ;  and  he  was  steadily  following 
measures  to  effect  the  purpose,  when  he  was 
ordered  by  James  II.  one  of  the  most  obstinate 
and  infatuated  of  all  the  English  kings,  to  give 
up  the  point  to  the  governor  of  Canada  ;  and  to 
use  his  influence  with  the  five  nations,  to  make 
peace  with  the  French. 

Deprived  of  the  assistance  and  councils  of 
Dongan,  the  five  nations  began  to  hearken  to  the 
French  invitations,  and  a  general  meeting  of  tho 
hostile  parties  was  proposed  at  Montreal. 
Twelve  hundred  Indians  of  the  five  nations  at- 
tended at  this  conference,  and  insisted  with  much 
earnestness,  on  the  terms  wbich  Dongan  had 
recommended.  De  Nonville  declared  himself 
ready  to  put  an  end  to  the  war,  if  the  Mohawks 
and  Senecas  as  well  as  the  other  tribes  would 
agree  that  the  French  should  not  be  hindered  ia 
supplying  fort  Frontcnac  with  provisions,     Ac- 


l-i-f' 


f  ■ 

11 


iff 


,  ,  I 


'ii 


:'•!> 


V    >' 

•ii. 


I     M  ! 


]' 


'  •-. 


I  -^  V  ''i 


i 

'l 
i 

■ 
j 

.  i:, 


li 


if; 


I  i 


/ 
/ 


982 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


cording  to  the  French  accounts  the  condition^ 
were  acceded  to^  and  a  treaty  was  agreed  upon 
by  both  parties. 

It  proved  however  oFno  avail.  The  policy 
of  one  Indian  was  sufficient  to  destroy  every 
idea  of  confidence  between  the  parlies,  and  to 
inflame  both  still  more  with  the  spirit  of  bitter, 
ness  and  revenge.  Amof.g  the  tribes  which 
lived  on  the  shores  of  the  western  lakes,  there 
-was  one  called  by  the  name  of  the  Dinondodics ; 
a  Iparty,  or  appendage  to  the  Hurons.  Thi?5 
tribe  had  found  it  profitable  to  trade  with  the 
English,  at  Michilimacinac.  On  that  account 
it  was  suspected  by  the  French,  as  being  inclin- 
ed to  withdraw  from  their  aliiance  ;  but  it  was 
still  at  war  with  the  confederates.  Adario,  cal- 
led by  the  French  Le  Rat^  was  their  chief. 
With  a  policy  perfectly  similar  to  that  of  Eu- 
rope, he  wished  to  derive  advantages  to  his  own 
tribe,  from  the  follies;  jealousies,  and  wars  of 
the  belligerent  powers.  His  wish  and  view  was 
to  prevent  the  peace  between  the  French  and  the 
Jive  nations.  If  he  could  eftcct  this  purpose,  it 
would  secure  his  own  tribe  from  the  attacks  of 
the  Fi-ench,  or  Iroquoise  ;  render  their  friend- 
ship of  much  importance  to  both  ;  and  at  the 
same  time  secure  his  own  influence,  popularity, 
and  povycr  with  his  own  tribe.  To  effect  these 
purposes,  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of  one  hun- 
dred men,  and  marched  to  intercept  the  ambasr 
sadors  ol  the  five  nations,  who  were  going  to 
compleat  the  business  of  peace  with  the  French 
governor.  At  one^of  the  falls  of  Cadaraqui  riv- 
•er  he  met  the  Iroquoise  ambassadors  ;  killed 
^omcj  took  othei's  j^risoners,  and  informed  them 


-,.1 


I-  ,)  \ 


I     'I 


HISTORY  OF  VEltMONT.     '  285 

that  it  was  the  French  governor  that  had  givcrt 
him  intelligence  that  fifty  warriors  of  the  fivor 
nations  were  coming  that  way. 

To  be  betrayed  by  the  person  with  whom 
they  had  agreed  Upon  a  treaty,  and  were  novr 
going  to  confirm  it ;  and  at  tlie  same  time  to  b» 
delivered  into  the  hands  of  a  pa^ty  with  whorrt. 
they  were  at  war,  exceeded  all  the  conceptions 
the  savages  had  been  able  to  fonn  of  di'ijlicity, 
perfidy,  and  baseness  ;  and  in  their  rage  against 
be  Nonville,  tUjy  declared  to  Adariothe  nature 
of  their  business,  and  the  dc:/ign  of  their  jour- 
ney. Adario  instantly  put  on  all  the  appearan- 
ces of  anger,  shame,  and  distress,  at  being  made 
the  executioner  of  Dc  Nonvillc's  baseness  and 
treachery.  He  flew  to  the  principal  of  the  am- 
bassadors, cut  his  bands,  and  set  him  at  liberty* 
*'  Go,  says  he,  my  brother,  return  to  your  na- 
tion, and  tell  them  it  was  the  French  who  led 
me  to  commit  so  base  and  vile  an  action,  as  to 
make  an  attack  upon,  the  messengers  of  peace. 
Though  our  nations  are  at  war,  you  are  at  liber- 
ty ;  and  t  shall  never  be  at  rest,  till  you  hav« 
revenged  upon  the  French,  the  base  and  perfidi- 
ous conduct  into  which  they  have  betrayed  me.'* 
By  these  arts,  similar  to  those  of  more  polished 
nations,  Adario  secured  peace  for  his  own  tribe, 
and  left  the  contending  powers  more  exaspera- 
ted against  each  other  than  they  had  ever  been 
before.  ,  .  . 

Th  e  intelligence  soon  reached  the  five  na- 
tions that  their  ambassadors  had  been  intercept- 
ed, and  assaulted  by  the  contrivance  of  the 
French  governor  ;  atid  they  did  not  doubt  of 
tht  truth  of  the  information.     The  whole  natio» 


'  >       i 


it 

■n ; 


t         > 


•  '  ,1 


I 


fi 


■);"!i 


;-ii 


h 


^n! 


!■ 


I 


f.i' 


'I  I, 


'if 


II 


* 

'  h 

i 

! 
i   ' 

f 

''  * 

'  \ 

f 

t   ■ 

fi84         NATURAL  AND  CiViL 

vowed  revenge,  and  ap^recd  to  make  rctaliatioft, 
Twelve  hundred  of  their  warriors,  animated 
ivith  the  fiercest  fcelinp^s  of  the  savage  heart, 
set  out  on  a  rnareli  to  Montreal.  The  inhabit 
tants,  unacquainted  with  the  attack  upon  the 
ambassadors,  and  believing  that  peace  was  made 
with  the  five  nations,  were  in  perfect  tranquility, 
widiout  any  preparation  for,  or  any  apprehension 
of  danger.  While  the  city  was  thus  serene,  and 
without  fear,  the  storm  of  vengeance  gathered 
and  burst.  On  the  26th  of  Jv.\y  1688,  the  In- 
dian warriors  landed  on  the  south  side  of  the 
island  of  Montreal,  and  immediately  began  their 
assauit  upon  every  part  of  the  city.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  destruction  which  the  savages 
carried  with  them*  They  burnt  the  houses, 
sacked  the  plantations,  and  put  to  death  every 
man,  woman  and  child,  which  they  could  find 
without  the  fortifications.  One  thousand  of  the 
French  were  slain  in  tliis  massacre  ;  and  twenty 
six  were  carried  into  captivity,  and  burnt  at  the 
stake.  And  so  great  was  the  consternation  of 
the  French,  that  the  Indians  lost  but  three  of 
their  number,  while  they  carried  destruction 
and  carnage  through  the  whole  island*  Not 
satisfied  with  the  calamities  they  had  already 
occasioned,  in  October  the  Indians  made  anoth- 
er descent  upon  the  island  ;  again  destroyed 
the  lower  part  of  it,  killed  several  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, and  took  many  prisoners. 

At  no  time  had  Canada  ever  before,  met 
W^ith  so  heavy  a  misfortune.  The  very  news 
carried  defeat  as  well  as  alarm  along  with  it. 
On  receiving  the  tidings,  the  garrison  at  Lake 
Ontario  §et  fire  to  two  barks  which  they  had 


»!STOftY  OF  VERMONT.       265 

just  compleated,  and  abandoned  the  fort  ;  leav» 
in^  a  match  to  twenty  ci^ht  barrels  of  powder, 
disposed  with  a  design  to  blow  up  the  works. 
The  troops  went  down  the  river  widi  such  ra- 
pidity and  fear,  that  one  of  their  battoes,  with 
her  crew,  was  swaliowed  up  in  one  of  the  falls. 
The  confedejates  were  in  all  the  animation  and 
insolence  of  victory  :  They  seized  the  fort  at 
Cadaraqui,  with  all  the  powder  and  stores  ; 
they  sent  their  scouts  every  where,  to  invade 
tlie  frontiers,  and  break  up  the  settlements  iti 
Canada.  The  French  were  involved  in  every 
kind  of  difficulty  and  danger  ;  their  borders 
were  invested,  inroads  made  on  their  oldest 
plantations,  their  new  settlements  breaking  up  ; 
it  became  difficult  and  dangerous  to  cultivate 
the  lands,  or  to  gather  in  the  harvest  :  And  to 
all  the  miseries  and  calamities  of  war,  were  now 
added  the  distresses  of  famine,  to  compleat  their 
catalogue  of  woes.  Their  Indian  friends  and 
allies  forsook  them,  and  made  peace  with  the 
Iroquoise  and  English.  Two  only  of  the  In- 
dian tribes  adhered  to  the  French  in  their  ca- 
lamity ;  and  these  were  too  much  dispirited,  to 
attempt  any  thing  in  their  favor  ;  and  it  was 
only  in  the  cities  of  Quebec,  Trois  Rivieres  and 
Montreal,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  colony 
found  any  safety.  The  savages  knew  not  how 
to  approach,  or  to  carry  any  fortified  works  ; 
and  the  French  availed  themselves  of  this  cir- 
cumstance, till  the  affairs  of  the  colony  took  a 
diiferent  turn. 

While  the  Iroquoise  had  been  Carrying  on 
these  measures  against  the  French,  a  war  had 
broke   out  between  tl^ie  Abenaquies  and  the 

VOL.  i        M  a 


h' 


'I '' 


,^1 


I    *' 


••■  i  . 


m  I 


I 


■ii 


i\ 


>■         ! 


•    iJl 


Til' 


t    i 


. .' .  t*1 


Si  i 


H  \% 


'* 


■\)t. 


d 


i  :  t 


206 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


English  colonies  at  tlic  eastward,  which  here  a 
thrcateninjaf  aspect.  It  was  understood  by  the 
English,  that  there  was  not  any  alliance  between 
the  Iroquoise  and  the  eastern  Indians  ;  but 
rather,  some  remains  of  Ibrmcr  hostilities  and 
jealousies  :  And  it  was  hoped  that  the  fierceness 
of  the  savage  temper  and.  passions,  might  be 
managed  so  as  to  dra\v  them  into  a  war  with 
the  eastern  tribes.  To  effect  this  purpose, 
commissioners  from  the  colonics  of  Massachu- 
setts, Plymouth  and  Connecticut,  had  a  confer- 
cnce  wath  the  five  nations  at  Albany,  in  Scp- 
tember  1689.  When  urged  to  engage  in  the 
eastern  war,  the  Indians  rejilied  tliat  it  was  not 
their  custom  to  go  to  war  with  any  people,  from 
whom  they  luid  not  received  any  injury  or  In- 
sult ;  that  they  were  engaged  already  in  a  war 
with  the  French,  the  common  enemy  ;  and  tint 
they  believed  the  best  policy  would  be  for  the 
English  colonics  first  to  assist  them  in  subduing 
the. enemy,  that  was  always  ready  to  make  war 
against  them  both.  The  speech  which  their 
orator  made  on  this  occasion,  is  an  amusing 
specimen  of  the  Indian  genius,  policy  and  elo- 
quence. The  English  commissioners  learnt 
from  it,  but  with  surprise,  that  the  Indians  well 
understood  their  own  interest  and  affairs  ;  and 
were  as  much  disposed  and  qualified  to  avail 
themselves  of  policy  in  th<e  management  of  war, 
as  the  Europeans  who  had  got  possession  of 
tiieix  country. 


1)    ■ 


A.Vi       '^    \  it 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


CHAPTER    X, 


287 


War.  The  first  vmrs  betivcm  the  English  and 
French  colonics^  lusistcd  by  the  Indians  ;  from 
the  year  1689  ta  1750.  Effect  of  the  rcvo. 
lutiojt  in  favor  of  WtU'iani  and.  Mary,  Plans 
of  the  French,  Destruction  in  New  Hamp- 
shire and  Schenectady.  First  attempt  to  re- 
duce Canada.  Sentiments  of  the  Indians  on 
that  occasion,  French  expedition  against  the 
Mohawks,  Destruction  of  Detrfield,  Second 
expedition  against  Canada.  Proceedings  of 
Schuyler,  Third  attempt  to  reduce  Canada, 
Proceedings  at  Oswego  arid  Lake  Ontario,, 
Buildings  and  settlement  at  fort  St.  Frederick 
at  Crown  Point.  Capture  of  fort  Massachu- 
setts. Proposed  expedition  agamst  Crown 
Point.     Attempt  upon  the  fort  at  Charlestown* 

THE  wars  which  had  hitherto  taken 
pla<^  iu  the  northern  parts  of  tJj}C  country,  had 
bcciiVhiefly  between  tlie  natives  and  the  Euro- 
pean colonics.  The  Enghsh  and  the  French 
colonies  had  made  it  their  practice  to  assist  tlic 
Indians  \vith  arms,  ammunition,  cloathing  and 
provisions,  when  they  were  going  to  war,  either 
against  each  other,  or  against  the  opposite  colo- 
ny ;  but  neither  of  them  had  as  yet  adopted  the 
custom,  of  joining  their  own  troops  to  the  In- 
dians, or  sending  out  parties  to  aid  or  assist 
them  in  their  expeditions. 

Col.  Dongan,  who  was  governor  of  Newyork 
under.  James  II.  was  expressly  commanded  by 
his  sovereign,  to  avoid  giving  the   Indians  any 


.1 


i^^ 


:  » 
I'      ' 


i  » 


:i 


I 


l'!-'i 


{•^1 


lOl' 


«     ! 


y  i^  ! 


I. '4 


I  i:i;, 


■r.| 


I 


il 


i :, 


i^i 


288 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


assistance,  or  the  French  any  molestation.    A 
dupe  to  his  bigotry  and  to  his  priests,  it  seemed 
to  be  the  great  object  of  tlie  English  king,  to 
have  the  French  missionaries  succeed  in  con- 
verting the  American  Indians  to  the  faith  and 
ceremonies  of  the  church  of  Rome  ;  and  that 
every  political  movement  in  the   province   of 
Newyork  might  be  directed  to  favor  that  event. 
Dongan  was  an  avowed  roman  catholic,  but 
had  more  understanding  than  to  sacrifice  the 
political  interests  of  his  colony,  to  the  danger- 
ous design  of  making  the  Indians  a  new  sect  of 
believers  in  the  catholic  priests.      He  foresaw 
the  political  consequence  and  effect,  avoided  th^ 
civil  politics  of  his  master,  opposed  the  views 
and  measures  of  the  governor  of  Canada,  and 
gave  much  assistance  to  the  Indians  in  their  op- 
position to  the  French  ;  and  the  governor  of 
Canada  was  full  of  his  complaints,  that  all  his 
measures   were   opposed  and   defeated  by  the 
govv'^mor  of  Newyork.    But  this   strong  and 
mutual  jealousy   and  opposition  between   the 
governors  of  Newyork  and  Canada,  was  much 
restrained,  and  kept  from  any  open  and  avowed 
hostilities,  by  the  friendship  and  good  under- 
standing, which  at  that  time  prevailed,  between 
the  kings  of  England  and  France. 

Happily  for  the  Enghsh  nation,  the  folly, 
bigotry,  and  arbitrary  measures  of  James  II. 
were  carried  to  such  an  excess,  as  to  alarm  all 
orders  and  degrees  of  men.  In  the  event,  they 
prepared  the  mind  of  the  nation  for  a  revolu- 
tion ;  which  terminated  in  the  abdication  of  James, 
and  in  the  elevation  of  William  and  Mary  to 
tl^e  Engli&h  throne*    In  his  perplexity  and  dis- 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      289 


ircss,  James  fled  into  France  for  protection. 
Lewis  XIV.  avowed  his  cause,  and  aftbrded 
him  assistance  in  his  endeavors  to  recover  his 
throne.  These  events,  according  to  all  the  Eu- 
ropean customs  and  maxims,  could  not  fail  of 
producing  hostility  and  war  between  England 
and  France. 

It  was  the  fate  of  the  colonies  at  that  time, 
not  to  partake  much  in  the  prosperities,  but  to 
be  involved  in  all  the  misfortunes  and  quarrels 
€>f  their  parent  states.  No  sooner  had  England 
and  France  plunged  themselves  into  all  the  ca- 
lamities and  distresses  of  war,  by  the  vices  and 
follies  of  one  of  their  worthless  kings,  than  all 
the  people  in  their  colonies  must  share  the  same 
fate,  and  be  involved  in  the  same  pursuits  and 
sufferings.  And  the  time  was  now  come  in 
which  both  the  French  and  the  English  colonies 
were  destined,  not  only  to  carry  on  a  war  with 
nations  of  barbarous  natives  ;  but  to  become 
parties  and  sufferers  in  all  the  quarrels  of  more 
cautious,  but  equally  capricious  European  sov- 
ereigns. 

M.  De  Callieres,  seems  at  that  time  to  have 
had  the  management  of  their  military  affairs,  in 
C^nadp.  Of  an  active  disposition,  and  sound 
judgi|ient,  he  concluded  that  the  surest  way  to 
subdue  the  five  nations  would  be,  to  effect  the 
conquest  of  the  province  of  Newyork.  The 
plan  that  he  proposed  was  to  attack  the  city  of 
Newyork  by  sea,  and  that  ii  large  body  of  Cana- 
dians and  Indians  should  march  by  the  way  of 
Sorel  and  lake  Champlain,  to  take  Albany.  In 
pursuance  of  this  plan  he  went  to  France  in 
'i688;  aiiji  presented  a  memorial  to  the  French 


'./' 


I        I 


i',.i' 


I  '/■ 


!' 


'I'- 


I  r-  "::i         '   i: 


'.1 


\         1 


4 


\-  IK 


■5. 


;':r 


N! 


11; 


290 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


king  on  the  subject.     The  force  which  he  re- 
quested for  these  purposes,   was  thirteen  hun- 
dred regulars,   and  three   hundicd  Canadians. 
Albany  was  said  to  be  fortified  only  by  an  in- 
closurc   of  stockadoes,  and  a    little  fort,  with 
only  four  bastions  ;  and  that  it  contained  but 
one  hundred  and  fifty   soldiers,  and  tliree  hun- 
dred inhabitants.     The  capital  of  the  province, 
Newyork,  was  described  as  defended  only  by  a 
:^tone  fort,  with  four  bastions  ;  and  containing 
four   hundred   inhabitants,    divided  into  eight 
companies.     The  Court  of  France  acceded  to 
the  proposals  and  solicitations  of  M.  De  Callie- 
res.     A  French  fleet  and  troops  were  sent  to 
Chebucta,  in  September     1689,  to   proceed   to 
Newyork,  as  soon  as  the  troops  should  have 
inarched    towards   Albany.      The    Count   De 
Frontenac  proceeded  to  Quebec,  to  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  the    Canadians  and  Indians,  in 
their  march  to  Albany.     On  his  arrival  at  Que- 
bec, he  found  the  afilurs  of  Canada  in  great  con- 
fusion.    He  learnt  ^vith  astonishment  that  the 
Iroquoise  had  plundered  and  burnt  the  city  of 
Montreal,   and  killed  most  of  the   inhabitants  ; 
that  the  frontier  settlements  were  broken  up, 
and  the  inhabitants  of  Canada  in  such  a  state  of 
weakness  and  poverty,  that  they  could  not  un- 
dertake any  expedition  against  Albany.     It  was 
in  vain  for  Frontenac  to  attempt  a  conquest  of 
N^cwyork:,  while  the  French  colony  was  in  such 
a  situation  ;  and  he  v\ as  obliged  to  give  up  an 
expedition,  on  which  his  heart  had  been  much 
engaged.*'     Thus   early  did  it   occur   to  the 

*  Clvirlcvaix.    Sfnith's  Hiit.  Newyork, 


|h  he  re- 
en  hun- 
nadians. 
'y  an  in- 
it,  with 
necl  but 
ce  hun- 
rovince, 
nlyhy  a 
»ntainii)g 
to  eigJit 
-cdod  to 
-  CaJh'e- 
sent  to 
cccd   to 
Id  have 
unt  De 
himself 
ians,  in 
at  Que- 
-at  con- 
hat  the 
city  of 
itants  ; 
^en  up, 
state  of 
lot  un- 
it was 
uest  of 
ti  such 
up  an 
much 
o  the 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       291 

minds  of  military  men,  that  whether  Newyork 
or  Canada  were  to  be  conquered,  the  passage  of 
the  army  must  be  through  lake  Champlain* 

Mortified  by  the  failure  of  the  proposed 
expedition  against  Newyork,  and  alarmed  by 
the  distress«d  state  of  Canada,  the  count  found 
it  to  b«  absolutely  necessary  to  revive  the  hopes 
of  the  Canadians  and  Indians,  by  some  attempt 
against  the  English  colonies.  With  this  view 
he  projected  two  incursions  ;  one  against  the 
eastern  frontiers  of  Massachusetts  and  New- 
Hampshire,  and  the  other  against  the  northerly 
settlements  in  the  province  of  Newyork.  The 
former  was  put  under  the  command  of  Sieur 
Hertel,  who  set  out  from  Trois  Rivieres,  and 
succeeded  in  the  destruction  of  the  fort  at  Salmon 
Falls  in  New- Hampshire,  on  March  18th,  1690. 
Thirty  of  the  English  were  killed,  and  fifty  four, 
chiefly  women  and  children,  were  carried  into 
captivity.* 

The  other  party  designed  against  New- 
York,  was  put  under  the  direction  of  D'Aille- 
bout,  assisted  by  De  Montel,  and  Le  Moyn. 
Under  their  command,  a  detachment  of  about 
two  hundred  Frenchmen,  and  fifty  Indians  who 
were  well  acquainted  with  the  country,  set  out 
from  Montreal,  in  the  beginning  of  January,  and 
proceeded  by  the  way  of  lake  Champlain.  By 
the  advice  of  the  Indians,  instead  of  proceeding 
to  Albany,  they  directed  their  march  towards 
Schenectady,  a  village  about  seventeen  miles 
northwest  of  Albany.  After  a  march  of  twenty 
two  days,  they  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  the 

*  BcUspap's  Uin,  Ncw-H»inpslurC)  Vol.  z.  p.  2;oi 


'     >  I 


!■ 


1  'in  t 


■.I 


%■  > 


H 


1  -it 


i     I 


j  VI 


v^  .1 


■i  i;    i 


1^ 


5>99 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


village  ;  but  were  reduced  to  such  wants  and 
distress,  that  they  apprehended  they  must  sur- 
render themselves  prisoners  of  war,  as  the  only 
alternative  to  prevent  perishing  by  hunger  and 
cold.  To  ascertain  whether  there  was  any  pros- 
pect of  success,  they  had  sent  forward  their 
scouts  to  gain  intelligence.  The  spies  were  one 
or  two  days  in  the  village,  without  being  dis- 
covered or  suspected.  On  their  return  to  the 
French  army,  they  informed  the  commandei* 
that  the  village  was  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  in- 
attention ;  that  the  troops  were  few^  and  under 
no  discipline  ;  that  the  gates  were  not  shut  even 
in  the  night ;  that  no  preparation  of  any  kind 
was  made  for  war  ;  nor  did  the  inhabitants  ap- 
J>ear  to  be  in  any  degree  apprehensive  of  dan* 
ger.  Encouraged  by  this  intelligence,  the 
French  officers  determined  to  move  forward, 
and  make  a  vigorous  assault  upon  the  place. 
On  February  the  eighth,  1690,  at  eleven  o'clock 
at  night,  they  entered  the  city  by  the  gates, 
which  they  found  open  ;  and  that  every  house 
mifl^ht  be  mvested  at  the  same  time,  thev  divi- 
ded  themselves  into  small  parties  of  six  or  sev- 
en to  a  division.  Never  was  there  a  place,  that 
was  more  compleatly  surprized.  The  inhabi- 
tants were  in  tlieir  beds  without  fear,  and  with* 
cut  any  suspicion  of  danger  ;  the  noise  and  vio* 
lence  of  the  onset,  awakened  them  from  their 
slumbers  ;  but  before  they  had  risen  from  their 
beds,  the  French  and  Indians  had  entered  their 
houses,  ftnd  began  the  work  of  destruction  and 
slaughter.  Col.  Schuyler,  commander  of  the 
military  force  in  that  part  of  Newyork,  has  giv- 
en the  most  accurate  account  of  this  tragedy, 


ants  and 
fust  sur- 
the  only 
[ger  and 
W  pros- 
rd  their 
re  one 
ing  dis- 
to  the 
mander 
itest  in- 

d  under 

lut  even 

^y  kind 

ints  ap«. 

of  dan* 

ce,    the 

bnvard, 
place. 

o'clock 
gates, 

'  house 

■y  divi- 

or  scv- 

Je,  that 

inhabi- 

l  with* 

id  vio* 
their 

1  their 
their 

n  and 

of  the 

s  giv. 

S^ed/, 


HrSTORY  OF    VERMONT.      29$ 

**Notongue,"  says  he,  "can  express  the  cruelties 
that  were  committed.  The  whole  village  wat 
instantly  in  a  blaze.  Women  with  child  rip* 
pcd  open,  and  their  infants  cast  into  the  flames, 
or  dashed  against  the  posts  of  the  doors.  Sixty 
persons  perished  in  the  massacre,  and  twenty 
seven  were  carried  into  captivity.  The  rest 
fled  naked  towards  Albany,  through  a  deep 
snow,  which  fell  that  very  night  in  a  terrible 
storm  J  and  twenty  five  of  these  fugitives,  lost 
their  limbs  in  the  flight,  through  the  severity  of 
the  frost."* 

Th  e  news  of  this  awful  tragedy  reached  Al- 
bany, about  break  of  day.  An  universal  dread 
and  consternation  seized  the  inhabitants  ;  the 
enemy  were  reported  to  be  fourteen  hundred  in 
number  ;  and  many  of  the  citizens  of  Albany- 
entertained  the  idea,  that  the  best  method  was 
to  destroy  the  city,  and  abandon  that  part  of  the 
countr}-.  But  Schuyler  and  others  roused  and 
rallied  the  inhabitants.  A  party  of  horse  was 
soon  sent  off"  to  Schenectady,  but  they  were  not> 
strong  enough  to  venture  a  battle.  The  enemy 
kept  possession  of  the  place  till  the  next  day  at 
noon  ;  and  having  plundered  the  whole  village, 
they  went  oflt"  with  forty  of  the  best  horses  load«> 
cd  with  the  spoil  ;  the  rest,  with  all  the  cattle 
they  could  find,  lay  slaughtered  in  the  streets. 

The  policy  of  the  French  was  apparent  in 
the  midst  of  these  horrid  transactions*  They 
not  only  spared  the  Mohawks  whom  they  found 
in  the  place,  but  several  other  persons  were  re- 
leased at  the  request  of  these  Indians,  with  whom 

•  Smith'!  Hist. Newyofk,  p.  ?». 
Vol.    I.  N   2 


I 


(  . 


I; 


r 


IS 


(i-:i; 


!f . 


-I        I 


V 


>: 


'I    ('-'■ 


I      ,' 


'     I-  J\ 


r; 


A 


1 

'  i     ■ 

1 

1 

1 

i 

1 

1 

J 

!t 


i' 


■V-    ' 

■i        'i 


±94         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

flicy  wished  to  be  at  peace.  Captain  Glen  was 
a  citizen  of  note  in  the  village  :  His  wife,  in 
the  time  of  Col,  Dongan,  had  shewn  many  ci- 
vilities to  some  French  captives.  The  enemy 
offered  no  violence  to  this  man,  and  released 
several  women  and  children  at  his  request  ;  de- 
claring they  had  strict  orders  not  to  do  him  any 
injury  on,  account  of  the  former  conduct  of  his 
wife.  The  people  of  Scliencctady  had  been  in- 
formed of  the  design  of  the  enemy,  and  that  an 
expedition  was  undertaken  against  that  part  of 
the  country  ;  but  they  judged  it  to  be  impos- 
iible  for  any  body  of  men,  in  the  severest  sea- 
son of  the  year,  to  march  several  hundred  miles, 
through,  the  deepest  snows,  with  their  provi- 
srionft  on  their  backs.  The  civil  government  o€ 
the  province,  at  that  time,  was  incapable  of  af- 
fording them  any  intelligence,  or  protection  ; 
Wittiversal  weakness  and  disorder  were  sj^re-^d 
difougli  the  whole  province,  by  a  revohitioii  at 
at  New  Yorki,  under  the  direction  of  a  captaire 
Lester- 

Tafi  success  that  attended  Ihesd  expeditions^ 
was  greatly  favorable  to  the  views  of  Frontenac^ 
and  served  to  revive  the  spirits  of  the  French: 
colony  :  At  the  same  time  they  occasioned  an 
alarm  in  every  part  of  the  English  plantations  ; 
and  it  was  apparent,  that  unles::  tTiey  could  be 
checked,  New  England  and  Nev7  York  would 
receive  much  greater  injuries  and  insults.  It 
Was  proposed  thdt  there  shoiid  be  a  meeting  of 
commissioners  from  ail  the  New  England  colo- 
nies,, and  from  (lie  province  of  New  York,  to 
consult,  3v.d  .f^rcc  upon  rnrasures  for  the  com- 
mon defence  and  saiety.     Commissio;*cj  :i  for 


il 


i 


I!   ' 


Pen  wa§ 
^ife,  in 

mny  ci- 
enemy 

released 

liim  any 
|t  of  his 

•een  in- 
tiiat  an 
part  of 
impos- 

st  sca- 

I  iniJes, 
provi- 

nent  of 
of  af- 

•ction  ; 

itioa  at 
captaiii 

litions- 
itenacy 
''renclr 
led  an^ 
ions  ; 
lid  be 
vould 
i.     It 
ngof 
colo- 
k,  to 
:om- 
5  for 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      295 


that  purpose  assembled  at  the  city  of  New  York, 
May  1,  1690  ;  it  was  their  unanimous  opinion 
thai  iiiero  would  be  no  permanent  peace  in  the 
E*  gjish  colonies,  till  the  French  in  Canada  were 
sujdued  ;  and  that  the  only  efi'ectual  measures 
would  be,  to  engage  upon  an  expedition  for  that 
purpose.  To  eftect  the  conquest  of  Canada, 
they  agreed  upon  this  plan  of  operations  ;  that 
eight  or  nine  hundred  Englishmen,  with  five  or 
six  hundred  Indians,  should  proceed  by  way  of 
lake  Champlain,  and  make  an  assault  upon 
Montreal  ;  while  a  fleet  and  army  of  eighteen 
hundred  or  two  thousand  men,  should  go  up 
the  river  St.  Lawrence,  and  make  an  attack  up- 
on Quebec,  at  the  same  time.  By  thus  pene- 
trating into  the  heart  of  the  country,  and  carry- 
in  ,s;  ihe  opera  lions  and  ravages  of  war  to  their 
two  capital  cities,  it  was  supposed  that  tlie  for- 
ces of  the  enemy  v^^ould  be  so  divided,  and  their 
c  jancils  so  perplexed,  as  to  afford  a  fair  pros- 
pect of  success  to  the  English  armaments  ;  and 
might  probably  terminate  in  the  conquest,  or  at 
least  in  preventing  any  further  insults  from 
Canada. 

A  small  vessel  had  been  sent  express  to  Eng- 
land in  the  beginning  rif  April,  with  a  represen- 
tation of  the  exposed  state  of  the  English  colo- 
nies, and  the  necessity  of  reducing  Canada  ; 
earnestly  requesting  a  supply  of  arms  and  am- 
munition ;  and  that  a  number  of  the  kings  fri- 
gates might  be  sent  to  make  the  attack  by  sea, 
Avhile  the  colony  forces  should  invade  the  coun- 
try by  land.  The  English  nation,  involved  in 
a  war  with  France,  was  in  no  situation  at  that 
time  to  afford  ajiy  assistance  to  the  expeditipn  ; 


1 

1 

M^ 


I   i 


'\'  i! 

/'J 


!.|i 


I'i ' 


'i'! 


^r 


rv  •    r 

If        ' 


I 


'  1 

4 

i 

i 

\'^ 

■ 

\  ^^ 

fi!)6        NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 

and  having  waited  till  August  in  hopes  of  stores 
and  aid  from  England,  the  colonies  determined 
to  proceed.  Massachusetts  agreed  to  fit  out  the 
force  that  was  to  proceed  to  Quebec  ;  New 
York  and  Connecticut  were  to  furnish  the  army 
that  was  to  advance  against  Montreal. 

The  Connecticut  and  New  York  troops  were 
put  under  the  command  of  John  Winthrop, 
Ksq.  ot  Connecticut  ;  who  was  appointed  ma- 
jor general  and  commander  in  chief.  Early  in 
the  month  of  August  he  arrived  wiih  the  troops 
under  his  command,  near  the  falls  at  the  head 
of  W  ood  Creek.  This  was  the  place  appointed 
for  the  rendezvous  of  the  Indians  of  the  five  na- 
tions. But  instead  of  finding  a  nwmerous  f(jrce 
as  1^  expected,  there  were  not  more  than  seven- 
ty warriors  ot  tlie  Mohawks  ynd  Oncydoes.  A 
messenger  was  sent  to  the  other  rations  to  per- 
suade them  to  send  on  their  warriors,  but  they 
did  not  come  forward  to  join  the  army.  When 
the  general  had  advanced  about  one  hundred 
miles,  he  found  that  there  were  not  batttaux  or 
canoes  provided,  sufScient  to  transport  one  half 
of  the  English  army  ;  and  that  the  commissary 
had  not  made  preparation  to  supply  the  aimy 
with  provisions.  The  Indians  told  them  it  was 
too  late  in  the  year  to  make  canoes  ;  and  that  it 
would  be  best  for  them  not  to  attempt  Montreal, 
but  to  direct  their  attacks  against  Chambly,  and 
the  French  settlements  on  this  side  of  the  river 
St.  Lawrence.  tUscouraged  with  the  difficul- 
ties and  prospects  before  him,  Winthrop  cal- 
led a  council  of  war  ;  in  which  it  was  determin- 
ed that  the  army  must  return  to  Albany  for 
subsistence,  and  to  send  on  about  an  hundred 


'  } 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        297 

and  forty  of  their  active  young  men,  EngUsh  and 
Indians,  to  make  a  diversion  in  favor  of  the  fleet. 
About  the  same  time,  August  the  ninth, 
that  Winthrop  set  out  for  Albany,  the  fleet  sail- 
ed from  Boston,  for  Quebec.  It  consisted  of 
between  thirty  and  forty  vessels  ;  the  largest  of 
forty  four  guns,  and  the  whole  number  of  men 
about  two  thousand.  Sir  William  Phips,  gov- 
ernor of  Massachusetts,  had  the  chief  command. 
The  fteet  had  a  long  passage  from  Boston,  and 
did  not  arrive  before  Quebec  till  the  fifth  of 
October.  From  the  lateness  of  the  season,  and 
the  retreat  of  Winthrop's  army.  Sir  William 
Phips  could  have  had  but  little  prosj^ct  of  suc- 
cess, Count  Frontenac  had  advanced  with  all 
his  forces  to  Montreal,  to  defend  that  part  of 
the  country  against  the  army,  which  was  ad^'an- 
cing  by  way  of  lake  Champlain.  No  sooner 
had  he  received  advice  by  his  scouts  that  the 
English  army  had  retired  to  Albany,  than  he 
set  off  with  the  greatest  dispatch  for  Quebec, 
and  arrived  in  the  city  before  the  English  fleet 
had  come  to  anchor.  The  baron  Le  Hontan,  a 
French  officer  who  was  then  in  Quebec,  gives 
this  account  of  the  proceedings  ;  that  count 
Frontenac  was  at  Montreal  when  he  heard  that 
the  English  fleet  was  in  the  river  ;  and  bad  the 
English  made  their  descent  before  his  arrival  at 
Quebec,  or  two  days  after,  they  would  have 
carried  the  place  W'ithout  any  contest  ;  as  there 
were  not  two  hundred  French  in  the  city,  and 
it  was  open  and  exposed  in  every  part  ;  but 
that  they  lost  the  opportunity,  by  spending  three 
days  in  consultation,  before  tliey  came  to  any 
deterinination  how  to  act. 


1 


r: 


»     >     : 


iHL 


I  1 


!!.(' 


i' 


n'[fi 


1:1 

y'i 

1  I  i 


"  if' 


w-^.'-iT'ftt-'-r-r'    -.-"Wt:^ 


298 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


-1 


m 


:  i 


t 

1 

'  ^ 

{ 
t 

1  ^ 

1. 

i     . 

(^ 

On  the  eighth  of  October,  tlie  troops  were 
Jandcd,  amounting  to  between  twelve  and  thir- 
teen  hundred  men,  and  advanced  towards  the 
town.  The  next  day  the  ships  were  drawn  up 
before  it,  and  cannonaded  with  all  their  force. 
Tliey  did  but  little  damage  to  the  enemy,  but 
were  much  shattered  by  the  cannon  from  their 
batteries.  On  the  eleventh,  the  troops  were  re- 
embarked.  They  had  advanced,  and  maintain- 
ed Uieir  ground  with  spirit,  but  they  received 
such  an  account  of  the  strength  of  the  French 
from  a  deserter,  as  discouraged  them  from  any 
further  attempt.  Nor  was  there  t.iiy  prospect 
tliat  they  could  succeed,  when  they  had  to  op- 
pose  the  whole  force  of  Canada,  under  so  able 
a  commander  as  Frontenac.  In  a  few  days  tern- 
pestuous  weather  came  on,  which  drove  some 
of  the  vessels  from  anchor,  and  scattered  the 
vhole  fleet  ;  and  they  made  the  best  of  their 
way  to  Boston,  where  Sir  William  Phips  arrived 
on  the  nineteenth  of  November,* 

Such  was  the  fate  of  the  first  attempt  of  our 
anc^tors  for  the  conquest  of  Canada.  From  the 
ill  success  which  attended  it,  it  has  been  cus- 
tomary for  the  Englisii  and  French  WTiters  to 
speak  of  it  in  the  language  of  derision  and  con- 
tempt. With  the  multitude,  success  generally 
passes  for  wisdom,  and  misfortune  is  esteemed 
to  be  folly.  The  plan  of  the  expedition  was 
the  same,  that  was  t^vice  afterwards  adopted  by 
the  statesmen  and  generals  of  the  British  nation. 
Its  success  depended  on  the  joint  operation  of 
the  forces  under  the  command  of  Winthrop  and 

•  Hutchinson'i  Hist,  ot  Masiwhusstts,  "Vol.  I.  p-  400.    Tr«mb»li'« 
Jjist.  of  Conn«c«;qit,  p.  jpj.. 


>.    Trumbttli's 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        2i  1 

Phips.  Unfortunately  the  colonics  wasted  l 
summer  in  a  fruitless  expectation  of  succours 
from  England.  When  VVinthrop  proceeded  to 
the  lake,  the  Indians  saw  that  it  was  too  late  to 
make  the  necessary  preparations  to  embark  his 
army  ;  and  they  would  not  venture  to  join  him 
in  any  considerable  nuilibers.  Unable  to  pro- 
ceed he  was  obliged  to  return  to  Albany.  This 
retreat  proved  fatal  to  the  attempts  at  Quebec. 
When  opposed  by  the  whole  force  of  Canada, 
Phips  could  not  succeed  either  in  taking,  or  in 
holding  the  capital  of  the  country. 

The  fruitless  attempts  of  the  English  colo- 
nies to  subdue  Canada,  left  very  unfavorable 
impressions  on  the  minds  of  the  Indians  of 
the  five  nations.  They  saw  a  precarious  depen- 
dency of  the  colonics  on  a  distant  and  unknown 
nation,  which  they  could  not  comprehend  ;  a 
waste  of  time,  which  appeared  to  them  to  be 
unnecessary  ;  and  a  want  of  that  unanimity,  se- 
crecy, energy,  and  perseverance,  which  were 
generally  to  be  found  in  their  own  councils,  and 
in  those  of  the  French  ;  of  course  they  became 
apprehensive  that  their  new  allies  had  not  the 
necessary  information,  or  power,  to  subdue 
their  enemies.  Major  Schuyler,  of  Albany, 
was  acquainted  with  the  Indian  character,  and 
discerned  the  depression  of  their  minds.  To 
keep  alive,  and  to  animate  their  enmity  and  hos- 
tility against  the  French,  in  the  summer  of  the 
year  1691,  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  party 
of  Mohawks  ;  and  passing  through  lake  Cham- 
plain,  made  a  vigorous  irruption  upon  the 
French  settlements  on  the  river  Sorel.  He  was 
opposed  by  M.  Dc  Callieres,  the  governor  of 


V  \ 


A: 
f 


!•  ,1 


I      ' 


J 


T'  in 


v|li 


1     / 


y  -r;  '  ' 


/jkjs 


''/' 


I' 4 


11^ 


f 


'f 


soo 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


•r  ■ 


Montreal,  who  with  an  army  of  eight  hundred 
men,  v</',in  tirini,..  d  at  L:i  Pr.iirie.  Several  en. 
ga'.^v'mc;its  took  place  between  the  hostile  par- 
ties,  And  1 1  these  encounters  Schuyler  sltw  a- 
bout  tIuvc  hundred  of  the  enemy  ;  a  number 
"U'hich  exceeded  th.it  of  his  own  force.  While 
the  French  kept  their  troops  together  in  the 
European  form,  S/huyler  adopted  the  Indian 
method  of  placing  lih  men  under  cover  of  trees 
and  swamps  ;  and  deiived  great  advantage,  from 
tliis  method  of  carrying  on  his  assaults.* 

Amidst  these  invasions  of  Canada,  Fronten. 
ac,  though  far  advanced  in  age,  being  above 
seventy,  preserved  his  vigor  and  activity  ;  and 
was  perpetually  planning  some  cnterprize  for 
the  benefit  of  the '  colony,  and  animating  every 
body  around  him.  Having  failed  in  his  at- 
tempts  to  make  j^eace  with  the  five  nations,  he 
was  now  meditating  a  blow  upon  the  Mohawks. 
The  force  he  collected  for  this  purpose,  amount- 
ed to  six  or  seven  hundred  French  and  Indians. 
Well  supplied  with  every  thing  necessary  for  a 
winter  campaign,  the  army  set  out  from  Mon- 
trcal,  January  15th,  1695,  and  marched  by  the 
way  of  lake  Champlain.  Persevering  through 
incredible  hardships,  they  passed  by  Schenecta- 
dy on  February  the  sixth,  and  that  night  cap- 
tured five  men  and  some  women  and  children, 
at  the  first  castle  of  the  Mohawks.  They  met 
with  the  same  success  at  the  second  castle  ; 
the  Indians  being  in  perfect  security,  and  many 
of  them  gone  to  Schenectady.  At  the  third, 
they  found  about  forty  Indians  engaged  in  a 

•  Smith's  Hot.  New  York,  p.  gu 


il 


1     ! 
,•  I 


nt  hundred 
[Several  en. 
postilc  par- 
•'er  slew  a- 
a  number 
PC     Wliilc 

|hcr  in  the 
the  Indian 
Tr  of  trees 

hta,c^',  from 

Its.* 

ly  Frontcn. 
•  ing  above 
ivity  ;  and 
?rpri2e  for 
iting  every 
in  his  at- 
nations,  he 
Mohawks, 
je,  amount- 
id  Indians. 
?ssary  for  a 
^rom  Mon- 
hed  by  the 
ig  through 
Schenccta- 
night  cap- 
i  children, 
They  met 
id  castle  ; 
and  many 
the  third, 
aged  in  a 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        30b 

war  dance,  and  prepared  to  go  out  the  next  day 
upon  so!nc  warlike  expedition.  Entering  the 
niohawk  castle,  a  warm  conflict  ensued,  in  which 
the  French  lost  thirty  of  their  men  ;  but  they 
carried  the  Indian  fortress,  and  captured  nearly 
three  lui'ulrcd  of  the  Mohawks,  but  mostly  wo- 
men and  cliildren. 

Th  e  mibfortuncs  of  the  Mohawks  were  na 
sooner  known  at  Albany,  than  Schuyler  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  volunteers, 
and  marched  in  pursuit  of  die  enemy.  On  the 
fifteenth  of  February  he  was  joined  by  three 
hundred  Indians,  ill  armed,  and  many  of  themi 
boys.  With  this  force  he  fell  in  with  the  ene- 
my, who  had  made  some  attempts  to  fortify 
their  camp.  Having  still  the  advantage  in  th« 
number  and  discipline  of  their  troops,  the  ene- 
my made  three  successive  sallies  upon  Schuyler, 
bat  in  every  one  met  with  a  repulse  ;  and 
Schuyler  firmly  maintained  his  ground,  every 
moment  expecting  a  reinforcement  and  provi- 
sions from  Albany.  Fearful  of  that  event,  the 
French  on  the  eighteenth,  embraced  the  oppor- 
tunity of  a  heavy  snow  storm,  and  marched  off 
for  Canada.  The  next  day  eighty  regular  troops 
arrived,  with  provisions  from  Albany.  Schuy- 
ler resumed  the  pursuit,  and  it  was  by  means  of 
a  floating  cake  of  ice,  that  the  French  army  were 
able  to  escape  over  the  north  branch  of  Hud- 
son's river.  But  so  pressed  were  they  by 
Sell  lyler's  pursuit,  that  they  suffered  most  of 
their  prisoners  to  escape.  In  these  engage- 
ments Schuyler  lost  eight  of  his  men,  and  four- 
teen wounded  ;  the  loss  of  the  French  was 
eighty  killed  and  thirty  wounded*    Both  parties 

VOL.    I  O    2 


l 


:  I 


;M,' 


i  li  i\ 


1       I 


;i 


t  ,: 


■■r 


i 


,     t. 


f 


•ssis^ 


i :  .  I 


II: 


i  ■      '   Jl- 


.102 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


suffered  severely  by  the  severit}-  of  the  weather, 
and  the  want  of  provibions.  The  Mohawks 
found  about  thirty  of  the  French,  'which  had 
been  slain  ;  such  Avas  their  hunger  and  rage, 
that  they  roasted  their  bodies,  and  cat  them  for 
j>rovisions.  The  French,  in  their  turn,  >verc  so 
reduced  that  they  cat  up  their  shoes  before  they 
arrived  in  Canada.* 

For  several  years  after  this  period,  the  war 
was  continued  with  much  activity  and  animosity. 
Scouting  and  ravaging  parties  of  Indians  were 
fi-equently  making  inroads  upon  the  English  and 
French  settlements,  many  were  slain  on  both 
sides,  and  much  injury  was  done  to  the  advan- 
ced settlements  of  both  countries.  Frontenac 
was  also  much  engaged  in  erecting  forts,  and 
making  excursions  in  the  Indian  country,  to 
restrain  and  bridle  the  five  nations.  But  as 
these  expeditions  were  at  a  distance  from  lake 
Champlain,  they  do  not  come  within  the  propos- 
ed limits  of  this  narration.  Nor  did  the  war 
cease  on  the  frontiers  of  Canada,  New  York,  oi' 
New  England,  till  the  peace  of  Ryswick,  Sep- 
tember 20,  1697.  The  treaty  between  the  two 
crowns  of  P'.ngland  and  France,  by  putting  an 
end  to  the  European  wars,  restored  tranquility 
to  the  Indians,  and  to  the  American  provinces. 

The  tranquility  of  the  provinces,  however 
tras  to  be  of  but  a  short  duration.  Upon  the 
death  of  James  11.  the  king  of  France  did  not 
admit  the  prince  who  was  in  possession  of  the 
English  throne,  and  acknowledged  by  the  Eng- 
lish nation,  to  be  their  rightful  sovereign  ;  an4 


ill  M 


t  If 


1.1 


*  Smith't  Hbt.  of  New  York,  ^  95- 


!;  ,    V 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      30« 

proclaimed  another  person  to  be  king  of  Knp;- 
land.  This  affront  could  not  fail  to  engage 
those  mighty  kingdoms  in  ^Vclr,  and  to  involve 
their  American  colonies  in  all  its  effects  and 
sufferings.  On  May  4,  1702,  war  was  pro- 
claimed between  England  and  France  ;  a  sig- 
nal to  the  people  that  mutual  hatred,  hostility, 
and  destruction  were  to  begin.  At  first  the  war 
did  not  prove  distressing  to  New  York.  Count 
Frontenac,  the  able  and  \  igilant  governor  of 
Canada,  died  in  the  year  1698  ;  and  his  suc- 
cessor, M.  De  Callieres,  had  succeeded  in  com- 
pleating  a  treaty  of  peace  and  neutrality  with 
the  fivr  nations.  This  agreement  was  allowed 
to  be  in  force  by  the  go\Trnors  of  New  York 
and  Canada,  notwithstanding  the  war  between 
the  two  crow^ns.  And  instead  of  being  harras- 
sed  by  the  inroads  of  the  French  and  Indians, 
the  province  of  New  York  continued  for  some 
time  in  a  state  of  great  tranquility,  and  carried 
on  a  lucrative  trade  with  the  French  and  In- 
dians in  Canada,  at  the  very  time  they  were 
carrying  destruction  into  the  other  English  coU 
onies. 

While  New  York  was  thus  enjoying  "peace, 
the  French  and  Indians  were  carrying  uncom- 
mon destruction  and  calamities  into  the  eastern 
provinces.  In  August  1703,  a  body  of  French 
and  Indians,  five  hundred  in  number,  divided 
themselves  into  several  small  parties,  and  as- 
saulted all  the  settlements  from.  Casco  bay  to 
Wells.  They  killed,  and  captured,  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  of  the  English  ;  burning  and 
destroying  the  houses  and  settlements.  The 
whole  eastern  country  was  in  terror,  and  cor? 


;     ! 


im 


f'A 


ll 


%rl 


) 


I     ; 


i  t      , 


I 


»»;■!;:.  - 


!( 


P 


), 

id 
I' 


$ 


se4 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


>    :      ) 


n^HM 


'■\V    i 


ii 


fusion  ;  alarms  were  every  where  taking  place  ; 
and  the  whole  frontier  from  Deerfield  on  Con- 
necticut river,  to  Casco  bay  on  the  sea  coast^ 
was  kept  in  one  continual  terror  by  small  par- 
ties  of  the  enemy.* 

The  neutrality  which  New  York  maintained 
with  the  French  and  Indians,  and  the  supplies 
w^hich  they  afforded  them  in  their  descents  upon 
the  eastern  colonies,  was  cxtremelv  blamed  and 
censured  in  all  the  New  England  colonies.  It 
was  however  attended  with  one  good  effect  ; 
the  Indians,  in  their  trading  visits  to  Albany^ 
frequently  gave  accounts  of  the  expeditions  the 
French  were  preparing  against  the  eastern  col- 
onies :  and  Col.  Schuyler  never  failed  to  give 
the  most  faithful  and  early  intelligence  of  such 
designs.  Deriving  his  mformation  from  this 
source,  lord  Cornburj-,  governor  of  New  York, 
advised  Mr.  Dudley,  governor  of  Massachu- 
setts, so  early  as  the  month  of  May,  that  the 
French  and  Indians  intended  to  make  a  descent 
upon  Deerfield.  The  design  not  being  carried 
into  execution  in  tlie  course  of  the  summer,  the 
intelligence  was  not  enough  regarded.  But  the 
next  winter,  1704,  M.  Vaudrieul,  governor  of 
Canada,  resumed  the  project  w  ith  much  atten- 
tion. 

Deerfield,  at  that  time,  was  the  most  nor~. 
therly  settlement  on  Connecticut  river,  a  few 
families  at  Northfield  excepted.  Against  this 
place  M.  Vaudrieul  sent  out  a  party  of  about 
three  hundred  French  and  Indians.  Tbey  were 
put  under  the  command  of  Hertel  de  RouvillCi^ 


I     M. 


:!i  'til 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       305 

assisted  by  four  of  his  brothers  ;  all  of  ^vhich 
had  been  trained  up  to  the  business  by  their 
fatlier,  who  had  been  a  famous  partizan  in  their 
former  wars.  The  route  they  took  was  by  the 
A\ay  of  lake  Champlain,  till  they  came  to  the 
French  river,"how  called  Onion  river.  Advan- 
cing up  that  stream,  they  passed  over  to  Con- 
necticut river,  ai>d  travelled  on  the  ice  till  they 
came  near  to  Deerfield.  Mr.  Williams,  their 
minister,  had  been  much  apprehensive  of  dan- 
ger, and  attempted  to  make  the  same  impres- 
sion on  the  minds  of  his  people,  but  not  with 
sufficient  success  ;  but  upon  his  application  the 
go\'ernment  of  the  province  had  sent  a  guard  of 
twenty  soldiers  for  their  assistance.  The  forti- 
llcations  were  some  slight  works  thrown  round 
two  or  three  garrison  houses,  but  were  nearly 
covered  in  some  places  by  drifts  of  snow.  To 
this  place,  Rouville  with  his  party,  approached 
on  February  the  twenty  ninth.  Hovering  round 
the  place,  he  sent  out  his  spies  for  intelligence. 
The  watch  kept  the  streets  of  the  town  till  about 
two  hours  before  day,  and  then  unfortunately 
all  of  them  went  to  sleep.  Perceiving  all  to  be 
quiet,  the  enemy  embraced  the  opportunity  and 
rushed  on  to  the  attack.  The  snow  was  so 
high,  that  they  had  no  difficulty  in  jumping  over 
the  walls  of  the  fortification  ;  and  immediately 
separated  into  small  parties,  to  appear  before 
every  house  at  the  same  time.  1'he  place  was 
compleatly  surprized,  and  the  enemy  were  en- 
tering the  houses  at  the  moment  the  mhabitants 
had  the  first  suspicion  of  their  approach.  The 
whole  village  was  carried  in  a  few  hours,  and 
^vitli  very  little  rcsibtance  ;  one  of  the  garrison 


V' 

ii.'l 


i   II 


r)  'P 


i 


\  i-t 


I  ' 


•  .     t 


Ml 


■'.  (\ " 


•     i 


»>       '    1  I    i;        ,  ( 
1.(1/ 


;  > 


i^'" 


I 


If! 


if! 


306 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


houses  only,  being  able  to  hold  out  against  the 
enemy. 

Having  carried  the  place,  slain  forty  seven 
of  the  inhabitants,  captured  the  rest,  and  plun- 
dered the  village,  the  eneniv  set  it  on  fire  ;  and 
an  hour  after  sun  rise  on  the  same  day,  retreat- 
ed in  great  haste.  A  small  party  of  the  Eng. 
lish  pursued  them,  and  a  skirmish  ensued  the 
same  day,  in  which  a  few  were  lost  on  both 
sides.  The  enemy  however  compleatly  suc- 
ceeded in  their  enterprize,  and  returned  to  Can- 
ada on  the  same  route,  carrying  with  them  one 
hundred  and  twelve  of  the  inhabitants  of  Deer, 
field  as  prisoners  of  war.  They  were  twentj 
five  days  on  their  march  from  Deerfield  to 
Chambiy  ;  and  like  their  masters,  the  savages, 
depended  on  hunting  for  their  support.  On 
their  arrival  in  Canada  they  found  much  hu- 
manitv  and  kindness  from  the  French,  aud  from 
!M.  Vaudricul  their  governor  ;  but  complained 
jnuch  of  the  intolerance,  bigotry,  and  duplicity 
of  the  priests.* 

*  WITH  aproroiind  reipcct  tothemcmory  f)f  his  worthy  grand  sirc,tlie 
vriter  of  these  sheets  cannot  omit  tliis  opportunity  of  mentioning  with 
pleasure  his  descent,  as  bein;rthc  grand  son  of  the  ReV,John  Williams, 
at  that  tin^.c  the  minister  of  Drcrheld.  Thie  worthy  man  was  born  at 
Roxbury,  in  Massachusetts,  in  the  year  1A64.  He  was  educated  at 
Harvard  College,  and  took  his  degree  in  168.^,  and  was  the  first  settled 
ininister  at  Deerfield.  At  that  time,  when  the  people  were  forming  a 
new  plantation  it  was  customary  t.»  engage  some  respectable  preacher  ol 
the  gospel,  to  begin  the  settlement  with  them.  Having  the  best  educa- 
tion which  the  country  eould  give,  and  being  men  of  sober  morals,  tU 
clergy  had  of  consequence  great  influence  in  the  civil,  as  well  as  in  the 
religious  concerns  of  the  country  :  And  the  people  generally  found  in 
their  ministcir,  not  a  useless  dupe  to  metaphysical  chimeras,  but  an  able, 
amoral,  and  judicious  friend;  capable  of  directing  their  devotions,  and 
assisting  them  in  the  difficulties  and  hardships,  inseparable  from  their  situa- 
tion, when  first  commencing?  their  settlement. 

Such  a  one  was  the  minister  ofDccrfieJd.  ■  Learned,  moral, judicious, 
and  of  exemplary  piety  and  gravity,  he  was  greatly  amiable,  and  active. 
^n  1697,  the  village  was  attacked  by  a  party  of  the  enemy;  the  minist^ 
{Hit  himself  at  tiie  head  <4  ki«  ptoplc ;  and  wiHi  mitch  pnidMitw  aal 


i  i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


sot 


For  several  years  after  this  period,  acontinu- 
fd  scene  of  devastation  and  destruction  was 
kept  up.  The  New-England  colonies  formed 
several  expeditions  against  the  French  and  In- 
dians, in  the  eastern  parts  ;  and  they,  in  their 
turn,  were  constantly  making  inroads  on  the  ex- 
posed settlements  of  the  English.  Success  of- 
ten attended  both  parties  ;  but  the  exertions  of 
the  English  colonies  proved  extremely  distres- 
sing to  the  inhabitants,  as  well  as  their  losses. 
They  were  too  fe^v  in  number,  to  bear  the  loss 
of"  men  ;  and  so  low  in  their  circumstances  that 

bravery  they  repulsed  the  <?nemy.  On  the  breaking  out  of  a  new  war,hi» 
anxiety  and  his  acftivity  increased  :  Upon  his  application,  the  governnicnc 
jcnt  a  guard  of  20  soldiers  to  Deerfield  ;&  during  the  whole  winter 
he  was  incessant  in  his  religious  and  civil  conduct,  to  impress  the  minds  of 
the  people  with  a  sense  of  their  danger,  and  with  a  spirit  of  vigilance  and 
activity.  When  the  enemy  broke  in  upon  the  town,  they  went  to  ki» 
fcouse  in  the  beginning  of  the  onset ;  and  about  twenty  of  the  Indian* 
entered  his  house,  a$he  was  rising  from  his  bed.  Such  was  the  firmness 
ot  his  mind,  that  he  took  a  pistol  from  the  head  of  his  bed,  and  presented 
it  to  the  breast  of  the  first  Indian  that  came  up.  The  pistol  missed  fire, 
«nd  the  Indians  immediately  disarmed  and  bound  him.  Two  of  his  chil- 
dren, and  a  negro  woman,  were  butchered,  and  his  house  pillaged.  The 
Indians  then  suffered  him,  his  wife,  and  the  five  surviving  children  to  put 
on  their  cloaths,  and  prepare  for  their  dreadful  march. 

When  the  sun  was  about  an  hour  high,  theyledkim  out  with  his  wife 
and  children,  and  set  fire  to  his  house  and  barn.  On  the  second  day  of  the 
jiurney,  his  wife  scarcely  recovered  from  lying  in,  informied  him  that  her 
strc.igth  began  to  fail.  He  knew  the  consequence;  her  savage  master 
clove  her  head,  and  put  an  end  to  her  life,  by  one  stroke  of  his  hatchet. 
ill.  Williams  himself  was  carried  to  Canada  with  his  children.  At  timej^ 
they  all  received  favors  from  their  Indian  masters,  and  many  acts  of  kind- 
ness from  the  French,  During  his  captivity,  by  hirf  learning,  firmness, 
jteadiness,  and  resolution,  he  proved  of  much  service  in  supporting  the 
spirits  of  his  people,  and  preserving  their  attachment  to  the  religion  and 
fovemment  of  their  country.  In  1 706  he  was  exchanged,  and  sent  to  Bos- 
ton, with  a  number  of  the  English  captives.  Some  of  the  be?t  parishc» 
Bear  Boston,  urged  him  to  settle  with  them,  as  a  minister.  Declining  ev- 
ery offer  and  prospect  of  this  nature,  in  conformity  to  a  vow  made  in  hit 
ciptivity, he  returned  to  Deerfield',  collected  his  flock,  and  began  again 
with  them  the  labors  and  hardships  of  another  settlement :  and  remained 
their  worthy  and  faithful  minister  till  the  year  1 728 ;  dying  in  pe3ce,belov- 
td  hy  his  people,  and  lamented  by  hiicountry.  The  account  that  he  wrote 
fif  his  captivity,  is  in  the  plain  serious  style  of  that  day ;  an  instructive  and 
•ntcrtaining  relation,  and  has  gone  through  seven  editions. — "  The  me- 
morial of  virtue  is  immortal.  It  is  known  with  God  and  with  meti' 
When  it  it  preient)  tnen  tak«  eiamplc  at  it  ^  and  wbca  k  n  gone,  th^y  <it* 
•»«  it." 


'    »t 


■^■'  i  ^ 
J,  III 


*  ' 


ri 


ii  5; 


t 


ii 


i  ■' 


■  L-'\ 


■i 


r   ' 


\    -I' 


?  1      I 

Ml-: 


!? 


508 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


i  ''  ■ 


■1    ; 

1 

1            •'■ 
1 

li    ;     ■       ^ 

!^l     1 

It 

\t    ■    ■ 

^    '! 

'  t    i 

, 

1  h 

they  could  scarcely  procure  the  necessaries  of 
life,  much  less  bear  the  expenccs  of  war.  The 
whole  country  was  in  a  state  of  constant  terror 
and  alarm  ;  and  in  the  frontier  towns,  the  wo- 
men  and  children  found  no  refuge,  but  in  the 
garrisons.  The  men  went  armed  to  their  work, 
centinels  were  jiosted  in  the  fields,  attacks  were 
made  almost  every  week,  reports  of  French  and 
Indian  armies  and  incursions  witre  incessant, 
and  every  month  some  of  tho  inhabitants  were 
cut  off  by  the  enemy.  And  what  was  more 
humiliating,  a  favorite  but  ill  managed  expedi- 
tion against  the  French  at  Port  Royal  in  Acadia, 
in  1707,  had  failed.* 

To  put  an  end  to  this  horrid  scene  of  depre. 
dation  and  slaughter,  there  was  no  way  but  to 
carry  the  uarto  the  headquarters  of  the  enemy, 
and  make  another  attempt  for  the  conquest  cf 
Canada.  Solicitations  for  this  purpose  had  been 
made  to  the  court  of  England  by  the  assembly 
of  Massachusetts  ;  by  Francis  Nicholson,  who 
had  been  lieutenant  governor  of  New  York  and 
Virginia  ;  and  by  captain  Samuel  Vetch,  who 
had  been  several  years  before  at  Quebec,  for  the 
redemption  of  prisoners,  and  was  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  French 
settlements*  Vetch  made  a  full  representation 
to  the  British  ministry,  of  the  state  of  things  in 
America  ;  and  of  the  necessity  of  carrying  the 
war  mto  Canada.  The  British  ministry  ap- 
proved of  the  plan  ;  and  early  in  the  spring,[1709] 
Vetch  came  to  Boston  with  letters  from  the 
carl  of  Sunderland,  the  British  secretary  of  state, 

•  Hutchinson's  Hist.  Massachusetts,  Vol.  a,  p.  IZJ— IJ^.    Belknap's 
Hht.  New-Hampshire,  Vol,  i.  p.  329— 347» 


! 


le  of  dcpre. 
way  but  to 

the  enemy, 
conquest  cf 
se  had  been 
e  assem])Iy 
olson,  wlio 
V  York  and 
^etch,  who 
Jec,  for  the 
II  acquaint- 
the  French 
resentation 
►f  thingf?  in 
irrying  the 
inistry  ap- 
ng,[1709] 

from  the 
J  of  state, 

J9.    fielluiap'i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      509 

\o  the  governors  of  the  English  colonics  to  cn- 
^Mgc  their  assistance. 

'I'he  plan  announced  by  these  letters,  was, 
that  her  Mnjcsty  would  dispatch  i  squadron  of 
ships  to  Boston,  by  the  middle  of  May,  nith 
five  regiments  of  regular  troops.  The  colony 
govenniients  eastward  of  Connecticut,  v.crc  re- 
quired to  rais<»  twelve  hundred  men  ;  and  to 
furnish  them  with  transports,  flat  bottomed 
J)oats,  pilots,  and  provisions,  for  three  months. 
With  this  force  it  was  designed  to  make  an  at- 
tempt upon  Quebec.  At  the  same  time  fifteen 
Jiundred  men  w"erc  to  be  raised  in  Connecticutj 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  the  southern  colo- 
)Hes.  This  corps  was  to  proceed  by  \s'ay  iA 
Jake  CJiamplain,  and  make  a  descent  on  llie  Isl- 
and of  Montreal.  Vetch  was  appointed  a  colo- 
nel, and  Nicholson,  by  the  nomination  of  the 
governor  of  New  York,  and  the  consent  of  the 
governors  of  Connecticut  and  Pennsylvania, 
was  appointed  commander  in  chief. 

All  the  colonies,  except  Pennsylvania,  fur- 
nished their  quotas  of  troops.  The  provincial 
army  fiom  the  eastern  colonies,  \^'as  ready  to 
sail  for  Quebec  by  the  twentieth  of  May. 
Nicholson  with  liis  troops  marched  early  in 
the  summer  to  Wood  crcvk,  where  he  waa 
directed  to  wait  till  the  fleet  should  arrive  at  Bos- 
ton. Besides  the  quotas  of  troops  which  were 
to  be  raised,  several  independent  companies 
v/ere  formed,  and  sent  on  to  the  army.  Six 
hundred  Indians  were  also  collected,  and  a 
thousand  of  their  wives  and  children  were  main- 
tained at  Albany  during  the  campaign.  Pro- 
visions and  stores  for  the  urm^  were   collected 

TOL.    I.  P2 


(   ' 


1         (! 


I  .' 


>  I'  I; 


!i    i; 


■'■'/"il 


..:i 


'  I 


H' 


'I 


I 


I' 


310 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


* 


i^:: 

;! 

1 

i  i  ,    - 

; 

111 

\\  s  ■ 

v-j! 

and  transported  ;  and  more  than  one  hundred 
battoes,  and  ys  many  birch  canoes  were  con- 
structed for  crossir.g  the  lakes.  Three  forts 
were  built  at  Wood  creek,  besides  many  block- 
houses and  stores  for  the  provisions,  ^^hich 
had  been  provided  and  ti'ansported  with  great 
dispatch. 

Every  thing  now  bore  the  appearance  of 
success.  The  public  affairs  of  Great  Britain 
were  conducted  by  a  wise  and  able  ministry. 
Their  arms  had  been  attended  with  uncommon 
success  in  Flanders,  under  the  celebrated  duke 
of  Marlborough  ;  and  France  was  so  weakened 
by  her  repeated  defeats  in  that  country,  that 
she  was  not  in  a  condition  to  give  assistance  to 
so  remote  a  colony  as  Canada.  The  Indians  of 
the  five  nations,  through  the  address  and  soli- 
citations of  Schuykr,  appeared  to  be  heartily 
engaged  in  the  business.  Joy  seemed  to  spar- 
kle in  every  eye,  and  the  expectation  ap- 
peared to  be  universal,  that  the  time  was  now 
come,  when  Canada  was  to  be  reduced  ;  and 
an  end  put  to  thosie  horrid  scenes  of  destruc- 
tion  and  slaughter,  which  had  so  long  distressed 
and  wasted  the  country. 

The  scene  of  joy  and  expectation  was  not 
however  of  a  long  duration.  The  armament 
expected  from  England  did,  not  arrive  ;  nor 
any  intelligence  that  it  was  ready  to  sail.  A 
great  mortulitj  began  to  prevail  amcng  the 
troops  at  Wood-creek.  With  the  sickness 
and  disappointment,  the  public  humour  and  ex- 
pectation began  to  change  ;  and  tlie  spirit  of 
discontent  and  suspicion  became  anparent,  and 
increasing.     The  delay   of  the   fleet  spread  a 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        311 

general  discontent  through  the  country  ;  and 
early  in  the  fall,  the  assembly  of  New  York  ad- 
dressed their  commander  in  chief,  to  recall 
their  forces  from  the  camp.  Nicholson  and 
Vetch  put  an  end  to  the  campaign  ;  and  repair- 
ed to  New  Port  in  I.aode  Island,  to  join  in  a 
congress  of  colony  governors,  to  consult  what 
further  attempts  they  should  make  against  the 
enemy.  Two  or  three  days  before  this  con 
gress  met,  on  October  the  eleventh,  intelligence 
was  received  from  England  that  the  British 
ministry  had  been  obliged  to  give  up  the  pros- 
pect of  the  Canada  expedition  :  That  when  the 
troops  were  ready  to  embark,  news  arrived  of 
the  defeat  of  their  allies  in  Portugal,  and  that 
the  British  ministry  had  no  way  to  aTord  them: 
relief,  but  to  order  to  their  assistance  the  troops, 
designed  for  Canada  ;  and  that  their  attention: 
was  now  wholly  diverted  from  that  expedition.. 
Upon  the  receipt  of  this  news  the  assembly  of 
Massachusetts  desired  then'  governor  to  disband 
their  men,  and  dismiss  their  transports.^ 

Thus  ended  the  second  attempt  to  reduce 
Canada.  The  plan  of  the  expedition  seems  to 
have  been  well  concerted,  but  it  was  not  known 
how  many  difficulties  would  unavoidably  attend 
the  progress  of  an  army  through  Lake  Cham- 
plain  ;  and  how  much  time  it  would  require 
While  Nicholson  lay  at  Wood  creek,  the  gover- 
nor of  Canada  had  intelligence  of  all  his  motions ;, 
and  sent  out  an  army  from  Montreal  of  fifteen 
hundred  French  and  Indians,  to  oppose  him.^ 
The  French  army  set  out  on  the  twenty  eighth  of 
July,  and  in  three  days  advanced  forty  leagues 
towards  Nicholson's  camp.      The  intelligence 


J 


'!     !i,l. 


•I  -'r^i^ 


'^h 


1:  I 


ll 


M:-ii   1   ! 


1       -', 


;';.^f, 


"7' 


i  \ 


*h.? 


f| 


1        ; 

ii  (  ' 

V   :  .  : 

■  i 

f  :, 

1 

■  1.- 

»      1 

'    1 

■  i 

312         NATURAL  AND    CIVIL 

they    received,    was,    that   the    English   army 
amounted  to  five  thousand  ;  and  they  conchideci 
it  would  be  the  safest  to  return  to  their  advan- 
ced posts,  and  receive  them  there.     If  Charlc- 
voix,  the  French    historian,  is   to   be   credited, 
the  Indians  of  the    five  nations   were    doubtful 
whether  the  complete    success  of  the    English 
army  would  be  best  for  them.       Upon  the   au- 
thority of  father  Marcuil,  who  had  been  a  pris- 
oner at  Albany,  he  relates  that  a  grand  council 
of  Indians  was  held    at  Onondago,    that  one    of 
their  old  men  made   a  speech  in   the  council, 
and  ashed  them  whether  they  were  not  sensible 
that   they  were  situated  between  two   powerful 
.i:>lions,  either  of  which  were  able  to   extirpate 
their  tribes  ;  and  would  not  fail  to  do  it,    when 
f  ither  of  tliem   had  fully    subdued   the    other. 
lie  then  advised  them  not  to  adopt  any  measures 
tliat  would  tend  to  destroy  thek  own  importance 
and  independence;  but  topursue  their  formerpo- 
licy,  and  to  be  at  peace  or  war  with  either  nation, 
as  should  best  tend  to  keep  up  the  contest   be- 
tween them.     The   speech   and  policy   of  the 
aged  Sachem    made  a  great  impression  on  the 
assembly  ;  and  according  to  Mareuil,  the  Indi- 
ans v.ere  not  active  in  assisting  Nicholson,  but 
rather  wished  to  pollute  the  water  from  which 
his  army  drank,   and  to  impede  their  progress. 
But  whatever  might  be  the  circumstances,  an 
event  in  Portugal  put  an  end  to  the  whole  ex- 
pedition.     And  the  plan  concerted  and   urged 
by  the  British  ministry  served  no  other  purpose 
than  to  produce  the  loss  of  a  great  part  of  Nich- 
olson's army,  to  euLail  a  heavy  debt  on  the  En- 
glish colonies^  to  dishonour  them  in  the   view 


^;, 


i' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        513 


r  '■  1 


©f  the  French  and  Indians,  and  to  spread  a  gen- 
eral discontent  and  suspicion  througu  the  coun- 
try.* 

The  attempt  upon  Canada  having  failed,  the 
frontiers  were  again  involved  in  blood  and  de- 
struction. While  the  ])reparatians  were  milk- 
ing to  invade  Canada,  the  French  cmpioyed  all 
their  arts  in  managing  the  Indiiins  who  were 
attached  to  them,  and  engaging  them  in  a  vigor- 
ous opposition  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  danger  wus 
over,  numerous  parties  were  sent  out  to  harrass 
the  English  frontiers.  These  irruptions  were 
chiefly  made  on  the  northern  and  eastern  parts, 
of  New  England.  Among  others,  one  of  their 
celebrated  partizans,  Rouville,  with  one  hundred 
and  eighty  French  and  Indians,  made  another 
attempt  upon  Deerfield.  The  inhabitants  had 
but  lately  returned  from  their  captivity,  and  had 
not  forgot  their  sufferings*  The  enemy  was, 
discovered  at  a  distance,  the  inhabitants  rallied^, 
bravely  defended  themselves,  and  repulsed  theiiv 
assailants. 

New  York  had  as  yet  escaped   the  Indian: 
desolation  and  carnage,   being  covered  by  the 
Indians  of  the  five  nations  ;  between  whom,  aivJ. 
the  French  and  India  is  of  Canada,  there  was. 
yet  subsisting  a  treaty  of  friendship  and  neutral- 
ity.    Mr.   Hunter,  the  governor  of  New  York, 
was  so  apprehensive  of  danger  from  some  of  the 
confederates,  that  he  made  a  voyage  to  Albany,, 
to  renew  the  treaty  that  subsisted  with  those  na-- 
tions.     While  engaged  in  this  business,  he  waa. 
strongly  solicited  by  the  New  England  govem- 

•  Smith's  Hist.  New. York.p.  176.  TrambuU's HUt.  Connectic»t,p'.45£; 
nutchmson.  Vol.  a.p.  I6z. 

VOL.    I.  P    3. 


:1 


J.V 


'    .  . 


u 


i  ■ , 


'  I 


111 


^  -!.  r 


M'ii 


t 

1 

i 

/ 

•V 

n 


i!  h  r 


314 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I 


mcnts  to  cn)[^gc  the  five  nations  in  a  war  wlifi 
tlie  Abcnaquics,  who  were  daily  ravaging  their 
borders.  Attentive  chiefly  to  the  interest  of  the 
province  oF  which  he  was  governor,  he  decHned 
the  measure,  lest  it  should  bring  hostilities  upon 
that  province.  New  York  commended  this 
policy  as  wise,  prudent,  and  salutary  to  that 
jM-ovince.  The  New  England  governments 
condemned  it  as  narrow,  partial,  and  selfish  ; 
and  lending  to  create  distrust,  danger,  and  dis- 
union, in  the  English  provinces  ;  and  were  loud 
in  their  complaints,  that  their  enemies  found  at 
Albany,  arms  and  ammunition  to  carry  on  the 
Avar  against  them,  and  a  good  market  for  all 
the  sjjoil  and  plunder  that  was  taken  from  them-. 
Such  however  was  the  importance  of  vigo- 
rous measures  to  preserve  the  attachment  of  the 
live  nations,  and  to  defend  their  own  frontiers, 
that  the  linglish  colonies  still  retained  the  idea 
of  driving  the  French  out  of  Canada.  The 
congress  of  governors  which  met  at  Rhode  Isl- 
and, were  agreed  in  the  necessity  of  this  meas- 
ure ;  and  Nicholson  and  Vetch  who  had  met 
with  tliem,  were  fully  in  the  same  sentiment. 
It  was  agreed  that  an  address  should  be  made  to 
([iieen  Anne,  representing  the  great  harmony 
and  exertions  of  the  colonies  in  her  service,  the 
necessity  of  reducing  the  French  in  North  A- 
merici  to  her  government  ;  and  praying  her 
miijesty  to  grant  to  the  colonies  an  armament, 
which  with  their  assistance,  should  be  adequate 
to  tlie  desicrn  ;  and  that  ao;ents  should  be  sent 
to  Great  Britain,  to  join  with  Nicholson  in  rep. 
resenting  the  state  of  the  country,  luid  soliciting 
assistance  a3:amst  Caiiadu. 


i  i  .i 


i  f 

1  ii 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.      315 

No  man  at  that  time  liad  a  more  extensive 
:icc[U  lintance  with  tlie  aft'airs  of  the  English 
colonics  than  colonel  Schuyler  of  Albany.  He 
fully  compRhcnckd  the  importance  of  the  In- 
dian alliance  and  trade,  the  necessity  of  expel- 
linp;  the  French  from  the  northern  continent, 
and  the  danj^er  that  arose  to  the  English  colo- 
nies from  the  diversity  of  their  interests  and 
governments.  His  influence  among  the  Indiana 
was  much  greater  than  that  of  any  other  man  : 
By  his  liberality  and  generosity  to  their  chiefs, 
he  had  impaired  his  own  fortune,  but  acquired 
an  ascendency  that  was  of  much  use  to  his 
country.  Dissatisfied  with  the  management 
and  failure  of  the  expedition,  impressed  with 
the  necessity  of  vigorous  exertions  against  the 
French,  he  resolved  to  make  a  voyage  to  F^ng- 
land  fit  his  own  cxpence  ;  and  to  carry  with 
him  five  of  the  Indian  sachems,  to  give  a  more 
sensible  impression  to  his  solicitations  at  the 
British  court.  'I'he  assembly  of  New  York 
had  detcrniined  to  address  the  queen  on  the 
subject  of  a  Canada  expedition  ;  and  they  a- 
vailed  themselves  of  Schuvler's  intentions,  to 
express  the  sense  they  had  of  his  merits,  and 
to  have  their  address  jjresented  by  him. 

ScnuYLER  soon  embarked  from  New  York 
with  the  live  Indian  ciiiels,  and  had  a  prosper- 
ous voyage  to  England.  The  manner  of  his 
reception,  served  to  display  the  knowledge  and 
prudence,  with  which  he  had  conceited  his  plan. 
His  five  Indian  kings  engaged  the  attention^ 
and  gave  him  admission  to  all  orders,  companies, 
and  societies  of  men  in  the  kingdom.  The 
lords  and  coDj^mons,  the  nobility  and  gentry, 


It 


1  :i 
I 


.1  I 


n  > 


!'  ■! 


M     ■ 


''\ 


i.      I 


h\ 


'.-■' '  ; 


I , 


,)  < 


n^  .1 


;  1 

,  1 

i| 

\ 

^i 

316 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


the  clergy,  the  philosophers,  and  citizens,  all 
wanted  to  see  the  American  Mohawks.     The 
mob  followed  them,  wherever  they  went  ;  and 
small  portraits  of  them  were  every  where  sold 
in  the  streets.     The  British  court  waj  then  in 
mourning,  on  account  of  the  death  of  the  prince 
of  Denmark  ;   and  it  was  determined  in  the 
cabinet,   that  the  Mohawk  kings  should  appear 
to  mourn  as  well  as  the  rest.     The  managers 
©f  the  play  house  were  to  determine  upon  the 
forms,  and  adjust  the  ceremonies  oi  their  dress  ; 
and  the  queen  was  to^be  at  the  cxpciice.     The 
result  was,  the  five  Mohawks  came  fc^rth  array. 
cd  "in  black   under  cloths,  after  the   English 
manner  ;  but,  instead  of  a  blanket,  they  had 
each  a  scarlet  ingrain  cloth  mantle,,  edged  with 
gold,  thrown  over  all  their   odier  garments." 
The  next  part  of  the  business   was  to  adjust 
the  etiquette  of  the  public  audience  they  were 
to  have  of  her  most  sacred  majesty  j.  and  it  was 
concluded  that  profound  reasons  of  state  requir- 
ed that  an  extraordinary  solemnity  should  at- 
tend   this   transaction.       Sir  Charles  Cotterel, 
master  of  the  ceremonies,  conducted  them  in 
two  coaches  to  St.  James's  ;;  and  the  lord  cham- 
berlain introduced  them  to  the  royal  presence. 
Amidst  this  scene  of  parade  and  ceremony,  the 
Indians  made  a  speech  to  the  queen,  April  the 
nineteenth,  1710  ^  the  whole  object  of  which  was 
to  persuade  her  majesty  to  make  another   at- 
tempt for  the  conquest  of  Canada  ;    but  th; 
speech  itself,  whether  owing  to  tlie  customs  of 
tlie  British  court,  to  an  English  composition  or 
correction,  to  an  adjustment  to  a  royal  Euro. 
j)can  ear  and  importance,  or  to  any  other  cause, 


r ' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        S17 

the  speech  itself  was  destitute  of  the  spirit,  dig- 
nity, energy,  and  independence,  with  which  the 
Mohawks  always  spoke  in  their  own  country.* 

The  speech  however  had  the  effect,  which 
was  intended  ;  it  proved  acceptable  to  her  most 
gracious  majesty  ;  and  Schuyler  had  the  pleas- 
ure to  see  his  plan  succeed,  and  the  address  to 
make  his  five  Indians  of  more  consequence  at 
the  court  of  London,  than  the  whole  royal  fami- 
ly would  have  been  in  the  Mohawk  country. 

Applications  were  now  before  the  queen 
from  New  Hampshire,  Massachusetts,  Hliodc 
Island,  Connecticut,  New  York,  and  the  five 
nations,  seconded  by  Nicholson  and  Vetch,  and 
many  other  respectable  characters,  soliciting;  for 
another  expedition  against  Canada,  ^i^he  Brit- 
ish ministry  at  first  seemed  inclined  to  favor 
the  business,  and  encouragement  was  given  that 

*  According  to  Oldmhon  s  account,  tfve  following  is  a  translation  o€ 
the  Indian  uildrcss. 

"  Great  Queen, 

"  W.c  havcuiulertaken  aloni^  voyage,  v.Miich  none  of  or.v  predecessors 
could  be  prevailed  up;m  to  unden.akc,  to  see  our  i.rcixt  queen,  and  relate 
toiler  those  things,  wnich  we  thought  absolutely  necessary  for  the  good 
of  her,  aud  us  her  allies,  on  the  other  side  of  the  water. 

'•  Wf.  douht  n-)t  but  our  great  queen  has  bjen  acquainted  with  our  long 
andtpdiius  war,  in  conjuncfion  with  her  chiUlren,  a}!;a  nst  her  enemies 
tlie  Frcncli }  and  that  we  h  ive  been  as  a  strong  wall  for  LiKir  security,  evea 
tothelosi  g*"  ourb-st  inrn.  We  \\\r:  mightily  rejoicod,  when  \vc  heard 
our  great  queen  had  resolved  to  send  an  army  t-i  reduce  Canada,  and  im- 
rr.fdiately,  ill  tokjri  of  friendship,  we  ining  up  the  !;'ttlc,  and  took  up  the 
li.UL'het,an'l,  with  one  consent,  assisted  colonel  Nicholson  in  niaicingpre- 
p:irali^)ps  on  this  sic'.e  thj  lake;  but,  at  length,  we  were  told  our  f.reat 
queen,  by  ^ome  important  affairs,  w,is  prevented  in  her  design  at  present, 
which  ;nude  us  sorrowful,  lest  the  French,  who  had  hitherro  drcjad-,..!  us, 
should  now  thi.ik  us  unable  to  make  >varagjinst  t'lem.  The  reductioa 
of  Canada  is.)f  jjreat  weight  to  our  free  hunting;  so  that  if  cur  great 
queen  sliouldnot  beiaiiuifulof  us,  wemust,  with  our  families,  for.alie the 
country,and  s.  ek  other  habitations,  or  stand  neuter,  either  of  which  will 
btr.-iiich  against  our  incii.iations. 

"  iNt.>ke»i  of  :hosin':erity  of  these  Matir'ns,we  do, in  their  names,  pre- 
sent o'lr  great  qncen  with  thrsr  belts  of  Wampum.  a:id  in  hopes  of  our 
n\u  que  n's  favor ,  Ijuvc  it  to  her  most  gracious'tunsidcration."    yroiUi's 

int.  Ncwjroik,  p.  lii. 


!  <> 

■1    ' 


rv- 


i.  \. 


I'    ' 


1 .  ( 


'<   '.) 


ii 


n 


'I' 


fi,i;i,  7' 


^'X 


')] 


yu 


i 

T' 


h 


I  ^1 


!^l 


■  , 

i        i 

i    1 

i  .' 

■^•|'. 

1 

218 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


it  would  be  taken  up  the  next  spring.  Nichol. 
son  came  over  in  July  with  that  expectation, 
accompanied  by  a  fleet  of  five  or  six  frigates, 
with  orders  to  raise  recruits  in  the  colonies. 
They  were  designed  however,  not  to  make  an 
attempt  upon  Canada,  but  to  effect  the  reduc- 
tion of  Port  Royal,  and  Nova  Scotia.  The 
chief  command  was  given  to  Nicholson,  and  he 
made  an  easy  conquest  of  the  place  on  the  fifth 
of  October.  In  honor  to  queen  Anne  the  place 
was  now  named  Annapolis,  and  Vetch,  who 
was  adjutant  general,  was  appointed  by  Nichol- 
son to  be  the  governor  of  the  place. 

Encoubaged  by  this  success,  Nicholson  in 
the  fall  made  another  voyage  to  England  to  urge 
again  the  Canada  expedition.  The  expectation 
of  the  country  had  been  so  much  disappoiiited 
by  the  measures  of  the  British  court,  that  it  w^s 
not  expected  that  any  assistance  would  be  af. 
forded.  The  business  however  was  resumed, 
and  the  ministry  fell  in  with  the  proposals.  On 
June  the  eighth,  1711,  Nicholson  arrived  at 
Boston,  with  the  intelligence  that  a  fleet  might 
soon  be  expected  from  England  ;  and  with  or- 
ders that  New  England,  New  York,  New  Jer- 
sey,  and  Pennsylvania,  should  have  the  quotas 
assigned  to  them  in  readiness  to  join  the  expe- 
dition. A  general  meeting  of  the  governors  of 
the  colonies  was  immediately  appointed  at  New 
London  ;  and  while  they  were  holding  a  coun- 
cil upon  the  subject  of  their  orders,  the  fleet  ar- 
rived at  Boston  but  sixteen  days  after  the  first 
intelligence  of  the  expedition  by  Nicholson. 

The  fleet  was  not  furnished  either  with  pi- 
lots or  provisions  ;  and  in  addition  to  the  troops 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


319 


and  stores  required  of  the  colonies,  they  were 
called  upon  to  find  provisions  for  the  English 
fleet  and  army  for  ten  weeks.  It  must  have 
been  known  to  the  British  ministry  that  a  com- 
pliance with  these  requisitions  was  impractica- 
ble. The  colonics,  from  the  nature  and  cir- 
cumstances of  the  ministerial  management,  were 
suspicious  that  nothing  would  be  effected  ;  and 
that  in  such  an  event,  the  policy  of  the  British 
cabinet  would  be,  to  lay  the  blame  upon  them. 
Zealous  for  the  expedition,  and  determined  that 
no  fault  or  blame  should  attach  to  them,  they 
made  the  most  vigorous  exertions  to  comply 
with  the  requisitions.  Troops  were  raised  with 
the  greatest  expedition,  provisions  were  procur- 
ed wherever  they  could  be  found.  In  some  of 
the  colonies,  a  price  was  fixed  for  them  by  the 
arts  Tthe  assemblies  ;  and  in  others,  the  own- 
ers /  compelled  to  part  with  them,  or  to 
hav- vuem  seized  by  the  civil  authority.  The 
whole  country  was  in  motion,  to  provide  for 
the  expedition  ;  and  no  other  business  was 
much  attended  to,  but  the  raising  of  troops,  and 
procuring  military  stores. 

So  general  and  spirited  had  been  the  exer- 
tion of  the  colonies,  that  in  little  more  than  a 
month  from  the  arrival  of  the  fleet,  the  levies 
and  provisions  for  the  colony  army,  and  for  the 
fleet,  w^ere  compkuted  ;  and  on  the  thirtieth  of 
July,  ne  whole  aiTnament  sailed  from  Boston 
The  fi'^et  consisted  of  fifteen  ships  of  war,  from 
eighty  to  thirty  six  guns,  with  forty  transports, 
and  six  store  ships  ;  under  the  command  of 
Sir  H')vendcn  Walker.  The  army  on  board 
coiitalned  seven  regiments  from  tlie  duke  of 


M  ;*•.. 


I    ■< 


■»' '. 


•I  ; 


.!■♦ 


r\      ;i,' 


■J 


^^if' 

' 

,  '' 

1 
\ 

1 

i 

,   r 


i>j 


'■  :r 


I     ■ 

i      ! 


f 

i  » 

1 

i 

* 

1     i 

V 

. 

I:    !, 

S20 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Marlborough's  troops,  and  a  bnttallon  of  ma« 
rinea  :  two  regiments  rai£<  d  in  New  Hamp- 
shire, MassucliUbttts,  and  Rhode  Island,  were 
also  embiirkcd.  The  whole  amonnted  to  ne.ir 
seven  thousand  men,  with  a  fine  train  of  artille- 
ry, and  amply  provided  ^vith  the  necessary  war- 
like stores,  under  the  command  of  brigadier 
general  Hill.  This  force  was  fully  conipctent 
to  the  reduction  of  Quebec  ;  which  at  that  time 
was  not  strongly  fortified,  or  in  any  preparation 
to  withstand  a  regular  siege  by  a  veteran  army. 

On  the  same  day  in  which  the  fleet  sailed 
from  Boston,  Nicholson  set  out  on  his  journey 
to  A  Ibany  ;  and  in  a  few  days  appeared  at  the 
head  of  four  thousand  men.  This  army  was 
raised  in  Connecticut,  New  York,  and  New 
Jersey.  The  Connecticut  troops  were  comman- 
ded by  colonel  Whiting,  an  experienced  ofliccr, 
who  had  commanded  them  the  year  before  at 
Port  Royal.  The  New  York  and  New  Jersey 
troops  were  commanded  by  colonels  Schuyler, 
and  Ingoldsby  ;  and  Schuyler,  with  his  usuiil 
spirit  of  activity  and  enterprize,  hitd  procured 
six  hundred  Indians  of  the  five  nations,  to  join 
the  colony  troops. 

The  enemy  in  Canada  were  not  unacquaint- 
ed with  these  prejjarations.  Vaudrieui,  the 
governor  general,  sent  liis  orders  from  Montreal 
to  Sieur  Beaucourt,  to  hasten  and  strengthen 
the  works  at  Quebec  ;  and  commanded  all  the 
K^gular  troops  and  militia  to  hold  themselves  in 
readiness,  to  march  on  the  first  aliirm  or  notice. 
Four  or  five  hundred  Indians  of  the  distant  na- 
tions, were  collected  at  Montreal.  Several  In- 
dians, and  two  missionaries,  were  sent  auiong 


I  '; 


'1  of  ma« 

►V  Hamp- 

fnd,  were 
to  ne.ir 

'  of  artille- 
|sary  war- 

brigadier 
[:onipetent 

that  time 
[reparation 
[ran  armj-. 
eet  sailed 

journey 
•ed  at  the 
irmy   was 
and  New 
comnian- 
ed  officer, 
before  at 
vv  Jersey 
Schuyler, 
his  usual 
t  procured 
IS,  to  join 

iacquaii}t- 
rieui,    the 
Montreal 
trengtheu 
^d  ail  the 
iselves  in 
3r  notice, 
istant  na- 
^veraJ  In- 
t  auiong; 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       3^1 

the  five  nations,  to  detach  them  from  the  Kng- 
jjish  interest.  Quebec  was  fortified,  and  p!U  in- 
to the  best  situation  that  the  time  would  admit, 
to  sustain  a  siege  ;  and  all  the  principal  posts 
•below  the  city,  and  on  both  sides  of  tiic  river- 
were  prepared  to  oppose  the  landing  of  t\w 
firitish  troops. 

Walker  arrived  with  the  fleet  in  the  mouth 
t)f  the  river  St>.  Lawrence,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
August.  Fearful  of  losing  sight  of  his  trans- 
ports, and  the  wind  fresh  at  the  north  west,  he 
put  into  Gaspe  bay  ;  and  continued  there  till 
the  twentieth*  On  tlie  twenty  second,  two 
<lays  after  he  left  the  ba}%  the  fleet  appeared  to 
lie  in  great  danger ;  without  soundings,  without 
sight  of  land,  surrounded  with  a  thick  fog,  and 
the  wind  high  at  the  south  east.  In  this  situa- 
tion the  ships  were  brought  to,  with  their  heads 
to  the  southward,  in  expectation  of  being  driven 
by  the  current,  into  the  midst  of  the  channel. 
Instead  of  this,  about  midnight,  August  tlie 
twenty  third,  the  seamen  found  that  they  were 
driven  on  the  north  shore,  among  the  rocks  and 
islands,  and  in  extreme  danger  of  being  lost. 
The  men  of  war  escaped,  but  eight  transports 
were  wrecked  on  Egg  Island,  near  the  north 
shore  ;  one  thousand  of  the  men  perislied,  and 
six. or  seven  hundred  were  saved  by  the  other 
ships.  In  this .  distress  but  one  of  the  colony 
vessels  was  lost,  and  the  men  of  that  were  sav- 
ed ;  the  admiral  and  general  were  in  great  dan- 
ger, but  escaped  by  the  vessels  coming  to  an- 
chor. The  next  morning  the  wind  came  round 
to  W.  S.  W,  the  admiral  bore  a\vay  for  Span- 
ish river,  and  the  men  of  war  and  ti*ansport6 

VOL.  I.        Q  2 


t    :!^.    I' 


m 


a 


f:i. 


!  '\H  ; 


/'■ 


'I 


!■-'.'.. 


li  • 


t- 


I 


r«i 


i  K 


,f  :  ' . 


m 


?:''.Sw>i-'->^J 


il 


»  > 


.  (  ; 


;>'il 


I 


•t       .1 


M 


!  . 


f     /ii-'    . 


i    I 


i-' 

1 

:   .    il: 

■    i    1' 

322  NATOUAL  and  CIVIL 

followed.  The  wind  came  round  again  to  the 
cast,  and  wou'd  have  carried  them  to  Quebec 
in  two  days  ;  but  instead  of  making  another  at- 
tempt, they  were  eight  days  beating  dovTi  the 
river,  against  an  easterly  wind,  before  they  ar- 
rived at  Spanish  river  in  the  island  of  cape  Bre- 
ton. At  that  place  a  council  of  war  was  held, 
and  after  some  fruitless  consultations  it  was 
unanimously  resolved,  not  to  make  any  further 
trial  to  go  up  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  and  not  to 
make  any  attempt  against  the  French  at  Pla- 
centia  in  Newfoundland  ;  but  to  return,  as  soon 
as  they  could,  to  England.  On  September  the 
sixteenth,  the  fleet  sailed  f.r  England,  and  the 
American  troops  and  vessels  departed  for  their 
respective  colonies  ;  October  the  ninth,  Walk, 
cr  arrived  at  Portsmouth.  Here  the  scene  was 
closed  ;  in  addition  to  the  other  misfortunes,  on 
the  fifteenth,  the  admiral's  ship  the  Edgar,  of 
seventy  guns,  was  blown  up  ;  ha\ing  on  board 
above  four  hundred  men,  many  other  persons 
who  came  on  board  to  visit  their  friends,  and 
most  of  the  admiral's  papers. 

The  army  designed  to  invade  Canada  by 
way  of  lake  Champlain,  had  not  advanced  far 
from  Albany,  before  they  received  intelligence 
of  the  disaster  which  had  attended  the  fleet. 
Noticing  remained  for  Nicholson,  but  to  di.sband 
his  aitny  and  return.  The  marquis  de  V^au- 
drieui  had  been  at  Quebec,  waiting  for  the  arri- 
val of  the  Englijih  fleet.  He  received  intelli- 
gence by  the  fishermen,  and  dtlier  vessels,  that 
many  ships  had  been  stove,  that  much  military 
apparatus,  and  many  dead  bodies  with  red  coats 
had  been  di  iven  on  shore,  anii  that  the  river  wat> 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       323 

ciciir  of  ships  ;  and  he  justly  coiichidcd  that  the 
English  fleet  had  suffered  so  much,  that  they 
had  given  up  the  idea  of  mukinf^  any  attempt 
upon  Quebec.  Immediately  he  ordered  tlic 
wJiole  force  of  Canada  towards  IVIontreal,  and 
lake  Champlain  ;  and  formed  a  camp  at  Cham, 
bly  of  three  thousand  men,  to  oppose  Nichol- 
son's army,  should  they  attempt  to  penetrate 
Canada  in  that  quarter.  But  he  was  soon  in- 
formed that  be  h  nothing  to  fear  from  tl^ 
colony  army  ,  that  'cholson  had  n  .i ., '  ed  with 
his  troops,  upon  the  news  of  the  disaster  which 
had  attended  the  fleet  ;  and  that  the  people  of 
Albany,  instead  of  being  engaged  in  any  hostile 
attempts  against  Montreal,  were  in  much  anxiety 
and  fear  for  their  own  safety. 

Such  was  the  issue  of  die  third  attempt  to 
effect  the  reduction  of  Canacji.  The  two  for- 
mer had  served  to  bring  heavy  debt.-;  upon  ih^ 
colonies,  to  destroy  a  numl>er  of  th-ir  yv^.j'y^ 
men,  to  discourage  the  public  eonfidcnce  ui.  1 
expectation,  aad  to  abate  the  attachment  of  their 
Indian  allies.  This,  had  not  only  produced  the 
saiTie  cftects,  but  it  served  to  iill  tli2  country 
with  jc^alousy  and  suspicion  (^f  the  British  min- 
istry  ;  with  severe  charges,  and  loud  complaints 
iiQ-ainst  their  conduct.  The  want  of  seasonable 
intelligence  and  orders',  the  late  arriyal  of  the 
fleet  at  Boston,  the  known  impossibility  of  pro- 
curing the  provisions  required  without  previous 
notice,  the  complaints  and  obstinacy  of  the  ad- 
miral, the  ignorance  of  the  pilots,  the  secret  in- 
tentions of  the  tory  ministry,  were  subjects  of 
angry  debate  and  altercation.  The  remarks  of 
tlie  whigs  in  England  were  still  raore  severe,. 


i 


lllJ, 


':  1, 


i) 


>    i 


M 


I 


:-di 


»;'; 


I    I 
■  1  • 
'I       ' 


,ll  " 


!'         1 


:r 


:  ■■{( 


^•i.  ;'.' 


!■• 


/  f  ', 


^^1!' 


,i*i , 


II 


(| 


( 


I 


/ 


I, 

.1         '        i: 
I 


Wi  U    'I  'ill    ; 


SSi 


NATURAL  AND   CIVIL. 


Lord  Harley  went  so  far  as  to  gay,  in  his  ac- 
count of  this  expedition,  that  the  whole  was  a 
contrivance  of  Bolinbroke,  More,,  and  the  lord 
chancellor  Harcourt,  to  cheat  the  public  out  ol 
twenty  thousand  pounds.  No  public  enquivy 
seems  to  have  been  made  into  the  matter.  It 
is  more  candid  to  assign  the  misfortunes  of  the 
fleet  to  error,  than  ta  design.  Biit  when  every 
allo\vance  is  made  that  candor  can  admit,  it  will, 
be  extremely  difficult  to  believe  that- the  British 
ministry  at  that  time  were  seriously  in  earnest, 
in  wishing  to  carry  their  conquests,  any  further 
against  France.* 

The  ill  success  attending  this  e'xpedition,. 
prave  to  the  five  nations  unfavorable  sentiments,. 
of  the  power  and  policy  of  the  English  colonies. 
Emissaries  were  among  them  from  the  governor 
of  Canada,  to  seduce  them  from  the  English, 
i!!id  atlach  tlicm  to  the  French,  the  better  mim- 
i'L'ed  and  more  successful  cause.  And  very  se- 
riijils  apprehensions  were  entertained,  that  they 
were  inclining  to  the  French  inteiest.  The 
e.\stern  Indians  were  encouraged  by  the  failure 
of  the  expedition,  to  harrass  the  frontiers  of 
Massachusetts  and  New  Hampshire  ;  and  much 
damage  was  done  the  next  summer  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  Dudley,  Salstontal  and  Craii- 
Rton,  the  governors  of  the  eastern  colonies  form- 
ed* a  design  to  engage  the  five  nations  in  a  rup- 
tUiTe  with  the  French,^  to  afford  some  relief  to 
their  frontiers.  But  neither  the  governor,  the 
assembly  of  New  York,  or  the  Indians,  appear- 
ing to  favor  the  plan,  the  sch'^me  was  dropped  ; 

*  Smith's  Hist.  New  York,  p.  x.«6.    Hutchinson's  Hiit  MMsacbuiettlu 
Vol.  2..  p.  iSo,    TranbAiU's  liis^  Connecticut,  p.  ^6s, 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


h  j.. 


sedition,, 
timents,. 
colonies, 
governor 
Knglish, 
er  man- 
^'cry  se- 
(lat  they 
t.     The 
e  faUurc 
ntiers  of 
3d  much 
hat  part 
d  Craii- 
^s  form- 
1  a  rup- 
elief  to 
or,  the 
appear- 
opped  ; 

isacbuietUk 


and  the  eastern  colonijs  defended  tlie.n.sc'  * • 
with  good  succesj,  aguinsl  the  ini'vXids  oi  •  , 
savages. 

The  European  powers  IvAd  iiov/  ivecoTic  t!: 
edofthe  war.     The  real  intcr?'-,t;->  oftlic  I'Vcr.*  -^ 
court,  and  the  fHCtions  of  tlio  Br'rish,  inc'j'"'^  ' 
them  to  terms  of  peace  ;  and  o::  Mtir-"'-,   ';  r 
thirty  firsts  the  treaty  of  Utrecht  wa i   <^.r-^n :  ] 
by  the  plenipotentiaries  of  GuW,  Britn'ti  '^'vi 
France.     The  fifteenth  article  cf  diis  tr^s.^.y  '''• 
designed  to  prevent  any  fiu*t  her  intcir^cn-  *  •:! 
eidier  power  to  molest,  or  to  infl.uencc  the  h-^. 
dians  to  war.     The  plenipotentiaries  seem     ^ 
have  scarcely  known  whether  to  call  the  Indi  v  ■ 
allies,    friends,   or  subjects  ;    but  the    Tiidinr  i 
themselves  perfectly  well  knew,  tliat  they  (iij 
not  mean  to  be  in  subjection  to  crtb^  -  of  tiie 
European  powers,  or  to  their  cotonicj  ;  bat  to 
preserve  their  independence,  and  make  the  mo^t 
that  they  could  of  their  trade,  and  of  their  quar- 
rels. 

When  the  tiQ^s  of  this  treaty  became  known 
in  America,  the  Indians  every  where  appeared 
to.  be  disposed  to  peace.  On  the  eleventh 
July,  1715,  the  eastern  Indians  had  a  treaty 
with  the  governors  of  Massachusetts  and  Ne.v 
Hampshire,  at  Casco  bay  ;.  they  renewed  their 
professions  of  allegiance,  engaged  to  be  at  peace 
with  the  English,  and  to  prevent  all  hosiiliiics 
for  the  future.  Though  little  confidence  go  aid 
be  placed  in  such  treaties,  sileh  liad  been  the 
suiferings  occasioned  by  the  war,  that  this  a- 
greement  with  tl>e  Indians  was  considered  as  a 
matter  of  great  benefit  and  joy  to  all  parties  ;; 
and  the  country  had  the  prospect  of  that  tfuji-. 

Vol,  I    '      (^^ 


-r 


'  :    '.    I 


it 


■I 


.;  '1 


'i'i 


i-til./ 


i" 

.nil 


'.  >} 


(       • 


v^i*5i{ns3— a^-^ 


1   ' 


.i26 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


>  ^  ^* 


»        :l 


'4 


ii 


I 


quility,  which  the  people  so  much  needed  am! 
desired. 

Peace  with  the  savages  however  could  not 
be  of  long  duration.  The  English  were  con- 
stantly extending  their  settlements  to  the  east 
ward.  The  Indians  claimed  tlie  lands,  and  an 
opposition  of  interests  was  constantly  producing 
jealousies  and  complaints  on  both  sides  :  the 
governor  of  Canada  availed  himself  of  so  favor- 
able an  opportunity  to  encourage  and  assist  the 
indjan  animosity^  without  api>earing  to  take  any 
avowed  part  in  the  business.  Insults  and  rava- 
ges soon  succeeded,  which  termmated  in  burn- 
ing the  property,  and  captivating  the  inhabitants 
in  the  advanced  settlements  :  And  from  1720 
to  1725,  a  war  was  carried  on  with  great  vio- 
lence betweeathc  Indians  in  the  eastern  parts  of 
Canada,  and  the  provinces  of  Massachusetts  and 
New  Hampshire.  Few  wars  have  .ever  been 
more  bloody  or  destructive.  But  as  the  crowns 
of  Great  Britain  and  France  were  then  at  peaae, 
ihis  war  could  not  be  carried  on  with  the  open 
assistance  of  the  French  government,  and  of 
course  did  not  become  general  among  the  In- 
dian tribes.  To  prevent  such  a  calamity  there 
was  a  congress  of  the  English  governors  and 
commissioners,  to  renew  the  ancient  friendship 
With  Xhe  Indians  at  Albany  ;  and  Mr.  Burnet, 
governor  of  New  York,  prevailed  upon  them  to 
send  a  message  to  the  eastern  Indians,  threaten- 
ing them  with  war,  unless  they  concluded  a 
peace  with  the  English.  The  Indian  war  be- 
came of  course  confined  to  the  eastern  parts, 
and  did  not  extend  to  tlie  province  of  Newyork, 
•r  to  any  of  the  settlements  in  the  vicinity  of 


\>:  ; 


'M  ' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


QO 


27 


take  Champlain  ;  and  was  concluded  by  a  trea- 
ty with  the  Indians  at  Falmouth,  in  the  year 
1725.  At  this  period  both  the  English  and 
Frciich  were  extremely  cautious  to  preserve  the 
friendship  of  the  five  nations,  as  they  had  lately 
received  a  very  considerable  addition  to  their 
strength.  Above  eighty  Nicariagas,  with  their 
women  and  children,  had  repaired  to  their  terri^ 
tories,  from  the  country  north  of  Missilimakinac ; 
and  the  whole  tribe  of  Tuscaroras,  who  posses- 
sed a  large  tract  of  country  near  the  sources  of 
James'  river  in  Virs;inia,  had  also  removed  and 
settled  near  the  south  east  end  of  the  lake  Onei- 
da. This  ev«nt  had  augmented  the  Indian  im- 
portance ;  and  instead  of  calling  themselves  the 
five,  they  now  assumed  the  name  of  the  six  na- 
tions ;  and  like  the  European  powers,  felt  the 
comfort  and  pride  of  increased  territory,  popu- 
lation and  power. 

From  the  treaty  of  Utrecht,  a  long  period 
succeeded,  in  which  there  was  peace  between 
the  British  and  French  courts.  Their  colonies 
in  America,  were  now  enjoying  the  benefits  of  it ; 
but  neither  of  them  were  inattentive  to  their  fu- 
ture prospects  or  interests.  Aware  of  the  in- 
creasing power  of  the  English  colonics,  and  the 
threatening  aspect  which  it  had  on  the  growth 
and  safety  of  their  own,  the  court  of  France  had 
adopted  a  regular  and  systematic  plan  of  con- 
duct and  policy.  Their  aim  was  to  seize  all 
the  important  posts  and  passes  from  Canada  to 
Louisiana,  to  fortify  the  commanding  situations, 
and  thus  to  command  the  Indians,  secure  their 
trade  and  depencfence,  and  confine  the  EnglisI^ 
to  a  narrow  limit  along^  the  sea  coast,  and  pre- 


,  I     «• 


.:'   i; 


'  J, 


1 


<     !. 


(       i 


1 

i 

I 

•  1 


i!      1 


•i,'1 


•    If 


i    * 


32S 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL. 


M  . 


\  A 


\A    W  :     ' 


s  : 

^'^-       ;| 

1 

1 

\ 

•  1  i 

'i 

■'\' 

.,tv 

vent  their  extending  any  further  into  the  Indiif^ 
or  inland  countries.  Mr.  Burnet,  the  intcllU 
geirt  and  vigilant  governor  of  New  York,  well 
acquainted  with  the  geography  of  the  countrj', 
very  justly  concluded  that  the  most  eftectiml 
method  of  counteractiiig  the  French  pursuits, 
would  be  to  get  the  command  of  lake  Ontario. 
For  this  purpose,  hi  the  year  1722,  he  began  to 
erect  a  trading  hou^ic  at  Ofiwego,  in  the  country 
of  the  Senecas  :  and  to  make  it  a  place  of  in- 
creasing strength,  trade,  and  general  resort. 
Nothing  could  more  naturally  excite  the  jeal- 
ousy, and  alarm  the  fears  of  the  French,  tlian 
this  proceeding  of  governor  Burnet,  An  Eng- 
lish trading  house  and  fort  at  tha  moutJi  of  Q. 
nondago  river,  could  not  fail  to  injure  their 
trade,  to  introduce  the  English  into  the  heart  of 
the  Indian  country,  and  without  a  considerable 
naval  force  on  their  part,  would  give  them  the 
command  of  lake  Ontario,,  and  divert  the  In- 
dians  from  their  customary  route  and  i<:sort  to 
fprt  Frontenac.  Determined  at  all  events  to 
preserve  the  Indian  trade,  and  the  command  of 
l^ke  Ontario^  in  the  year  1726,  they  launched 
two  vcsseh  in  the  lake  ;,  and  transported  mate- 
rials  to  build  a  large  store  house  and  to  repair 
the  fort  ^t  Niagara.  The  French  already  com- 
manded  the  entrance  into  the  lake  at  the  east 
Qnd,  by  fort  Frontenac  ;,  if  they  could  now  sc- 
Qure  the  navigation  by  their  vessels,  and  the  eu~ 
trance  into  the  west  end  of  the  lake  by  the  fort 
and  trade  at  Niagara,  they  would,  effect  their 
purpose  and  render  Oswego  useless  to  the  Eng- 
Ush,  by  carrying  the  Indian  trade  two  hundred 
x^wles  further  to  the  west.     The  English  aiid 


.J'-»-Xr.:^-iX3^Si^ 


[IL. 

tlic  Indii  <, 
the  intclli- 
ork,  wcfl 
ic  countrj', 
it  cftcctiial 
pursuits, 
e  Ontario, 
e  began  to 
he  countr) 
lace  of  in", 
'ral   resort. 
2  the  jeal- 
eiich,   than 
An  Eng. 
outJi  of  0. 
ijure  their 
he  heart  of 
onsiderabic 
e  them  the 
ert  the  In- 
1(1  i<;sort  to 
events  to 
)mm.ind  ot" 
y  launched 
rted  matc- 
i  to  repair 
eady  com- 
t  the  east 
d  now  se- 
nd the  en- 
►y  the  fort 
feet  their 
the  Eng. 
)  hundred 
glish  and 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.      32t 

French  governors  exerted  themselves  on  these 
occasions  ;  wrote,  complained,  and  sent  mes* 
sengers  to  each  other  ;  tried  to  engage  their 
European  sovereigns  to  interfere  j  fluttered,  de- 
ceived, and  made  speeches  to  the  Indians,  to 
convince  them  tliat  all  tlKy  meant  was  to  pro- 
mote their  safety,  by  taking  possession  of  their 
country  :  thus  murmuring  and  wondering  at  the 
injustice  and  fraudulence  of  each  other's  pro- 
ccedings,  they  agreed  in  the  event,  to  keep  firni 
possession  of  all  the  posts  they  had  establLsihcd 
in  tlie  Indian  territory. 

In  this  kind  of  enterprise  and  r^  anceuvre,  the 
French  generally  discovered  the  most  actwity 
and  address  :  and  while  the  attention  of  New 
York  was  taken  up  with  the  aflfairii  of  thf:  west- 
ern lakes,  the  French  determined  to  make  near- 
er approaches  to  the  vicinity  of  Albany,  la 
pursuance  of  this  plan,  in  the  year  1751,  they 
«;anie  up  lake  Cluimplain  with  a  con:  idcrable 
ibrce  ;  and  immediately  begun  to  erect  a  fort  at 
Crown  Point.  No  measure  could  have  been 
bjtter  adapted  to  promote  their  own  interest. 
It  was  through  lake  Champlain  that  thtir  troops 
had  marched  in  their  expeditions  against  Sche- 
nectady, the  Mohawk's  castles,  and  Deerfield. 
It  \\Tis  tiirough  this  lake  that  their  scouting  par- 
ties found  the  most  easy,  and  the  safest  passage, 
in  their  excursions  against  t)'.  T  aiglish  colonies. 
In  all  the  attempts  of  the  Engiish  to  effect  the 
conquest  of  Canada,  the  attacks  upon  Montreal 
were  always  contemplated  to  have  been  effected 
by  the  waters  of  lake  Champlain.  To  erect  a 
fortress  at  the  south  end  of  this  lake,  was  to  se- 
cure the  whole  navigation  of  it ;  and  the  com- 


1  • 


'  I 


■  I'l 


r!i  / 


II  I  i 


\': 


330 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIU 


Ij    I 


/  , 


t^  ' 


»  I 


■■!l 


I 


1- 

i            J 

'I'll' 

mand  of  a  large  portion  of  the  English  and  In. 
dian  frontier.  From  this  commanding  situation 
the  French  could  not  only  prevent  the  attempts 
of  the  English  to  penetrate  into  their  own  coun- 
try,  but  would  always  have  a  magazine  of  arms 
and  ammunition,  to  supply  their  own  troops  and 
scoutinr  parties  ;  and  an  asylum,  to  which  the 
Indians  might  readily  retreat,  from  their  plun- 
dering and  scalping  expeditions  against  the 
English  frontiers.  And  by  means  of  the  river 
Sorel,  antt  the  lake,  it  might  always  be  reinfor- 
ced in  three  or  four  days  ;  or  receive  any  sup- 
plies, without  difficulty  or  danger. 

The  French  garrison  was  at  first  placed  on 
the  east  side  of  the  lake,  and  the  settlement  was 
begun,  in  what  is  now  the  town  of  Addison. 
On  the  western  side,  a  more  convenient  and 
safe  situation  was  found  ;  in  which  the  harbour 
was  good,  and  the  fortress  would  be  surroundi.d 
by  water  on  three  of  its  sides.  On  this  spci, 
now  called  Crown  Point,  the  French  erected  a 
fort  sufficiently  strong  to  resist  ivny  force,  that 
could  be  suddenly,  or  easily  brought  against  it ; 
and  gave  it  the  name  of  St.  Frederick.  T!ie 
laud  on  which  it  was  t;rectcd,  properly  belonged 
to  the  six  nations  ;  but  was  claimed  by  the  go- 
vernment of  New  York,  and  had  been  granted 
by  one  of  their  goven\ors,  so  early  as  1696,  to 
Dellius,  the  Dutch  minister  of  Albany.  The 
designs  of  the  French,  and  the  dangerous  con- 
sequences attending  the  erection  of  their  new 
fort,  were  well  understood  in  the  English  colo- 
nies. The  Massachusetts  e-ovcrnmcnt  was  not 
a  little  alarmed.  Mr.  Belcher,  iheir  governor, 
gave  the  first  information  to  the  government  £>f 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        331 


V'-   i!" 


New  York,  of  the  French  proceedings.     He 
■wrote   to   Mr.   Van   Dam,  president   of  their 
council,  on  the  subject  ;  informed  him  that  the 
Massachusetts  assembly  had  voted  to  bear  their 
proportion   of    the   ex  pence   of    a   messenger 
to    Canada,   to  forbid  the  works,  and   urged 
him  to  engage  the  opposition  of  the  six  nations. 
New  York,  at  that  time  ugitated  with  internal 
controversies,  paid  very  Uttle  attention  to  the 
business.     On  February  the  fourth,  1732,  Van 
Dam  laid  Belcher's  letter  before  his  council  : 
With  a  singular  weakness  and  want  of  spirit, 
tl.ey  advised  him  to  write  to  the  commissioners 
of  Indian  affairs  at  Albany,  and  make  inquiry 
whether  the  land  belonged  to  the  confederates 
or  to  the  river  Indians.     Their  passiveness  on 
this  occasion  was  the  more  unaccountable,  as 
the  British  crown  at  that  time  supported  four 
independent  companies  at  an  annual  expence  of 
75001.  sterling,  for  tlie  protection  of  that  pro- 
vince.    Thus  were  the  French  suffered  to  ad- 
vance nearly  two  hundred  miles  towards  Alba- 
ny ;  and  to  erect  a  fortress,  which  would  ena- 
ble them  in  any  future  war,  to  make  their  as- 
saults with  safety  and  success,  on  the  frontiers 
of  New  York,  Massachusetts,  and  New  Hamp- 
shire.* 

M'liiLE  the  English  and  French  colonies 
appeared  thus  suspicious,  and  preparing  for  each 
other,  both  of  thin  enjoyed  the  substantial  and 
uninterrupted  I;)lessinj5s  of  peace.  The  pacific 
disposition  of  the  European  courts  «t  that  time, 
'M\d  the  mutual  interests  of  tl*e  colonic*,  made 

*  Snuck'fi  Hiat.  NewYork^ 


N. 


-1' 


\  "    If 
•i 


1    ,  t 


-     ^ 


-I  '  ■ 


I       I    <  I 


■A  y 


i.' 


•ni 


!  '  *z 


I  • 


vR^Hcrr/' 


r 


I    I 


»i 


^: 


1.  I        I 


^ 


53S        NATURAL  AND  CIVIL  ' 

all  parties  carefully  avoid  the  appearance  of  hos^ 
tilities.  They  were  enjoying  the  benefits  of 
mutual  trade  and  commerce,  and  the  Indians 
were  unusually  pacific  ;  every  where  appearing 
more  disposed  to  trade  and  friendship,  than  to 
hostility  and  war.  To  the  English,  this  state  of 
peace  was  peculiarly  beneficial  ;  for  although 
the  French  generally  exceeded  them  in  the 
management  and  activity  of  a  predatory  Wiii; 
the  English  colonies  were  far  superior  in  tlic 
affairs  of  agriculture,  commerce,  forming  new 
settlements,  improving  the  fislierits,  and  other 
arts  of  peace  :  And  they  could  not  but  wisii 
for  a  continuance  of  that  state,  wliich  not  only 
contributed  to  increasing  extent,  population, 
wealth,  and  safety  ;  but  was  every  year  giving 
them  the  superiority  over  the  French  colonies. 
Some  persons  began  to  flatter  themselves  that 
tlie  Indians  had  in  fact  changed  their  habits ; 
and  had  no  hostile  events  taken  place  in  Europe, 
it  is  not  improbable  that  peace  would  have  con- 
tinued for  many  years  longer  in  the  Amcricaa 
colonies. 

In  the  year  1740,  the  affairs  of  commerce 
had  involved  the  crowns  of  Great  Britain  and 
Spain  in  mutual  hostilities.  Declarations  of 
war  ensued  ;  and  in  conformity  to  the  Europe^ 
an  custom  and  policy,  the  war  spread  over .» 
great  part  of  Europe.  France  soon  became  en- 
gaged in  it,  and  a  declaration  of  war  ensued  be- 
tween Great  Britain  and  France,  March  31, 
1744  ;  of  course,  their  colonies  and  Indian  al- 
lies were  again  to  be  involved  in  destructive 
and  bloody  contents.  The  scene  of  both  was 
opened  in  Nova  Scotia  ;   and  tlie  French,  witli 


.    '■!    •>  . 


.:  1 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      331 

tiieir  usual  activity  and  impetuosity,  began  the 
business  by  invading  the  island  of  Canseau  ; 
they  took  the  island,  burned  the  houses,  de- 
stroyed the  fishery,  and  made  the  garrison  and 
inhabitants,  their  prisoners. 

To  savages,  the  horrors  and  plunder  of  war 
are  so  agreeable,  that  when  the  flame  is  once 
kindled,  they  delight  to  increase  and  expand  it ; 
and  notwithstanding  the  long  period  of  peace 
and  friendship,  they  very  readily  embraced  the 
opportunity  to  fall  upon  the  English  frontiers. 
In  these  incursions,  the  advantages  which  the 
fort  and  settlement  at  Crown  Point  gave  to  the 
French  and  Indians^  were  soon  and  severely 
felt.  In  the  first  year  of  the  war,  but  little 
damage  was  done  ;  but  in  the  course  of  the 
next  year,  scouting  and  ravaging  parties  o£ 
French  and  Indians  every  where  appeared,  and 
carried  destruction  and  slaughter  around  the 
frontiers  of  the  English  colonies.  Mr.  Shirley, 
governor  of  Massachusetts,  was  at  that  time  the 
most  active  and  enterprising  of  any  governor 
in  the  English  colonies.  His  attention  was 
chiefly  taken  up  in  the  year  1745,  in  planning 
and  executing  the  important  and  successful  ex- 
pedition against  the  French  settlements  in  the 
island  of  Cape  Breton.  During  that  summer, 
and  the  next,  the  Indians  in  small  parties  were 
killing,  scalping,  and  plundering,  wherever  they 
could  find  a  defenceless  party  or  family. 

The  most  advanced  fortress  at  that  time  ia 
MaRsachusetts,  was  a  fort  at  Hoosick,  since 
Williamstown.  This  fort  was  erected  at  the 
breaking  out  of  the  war,  to  cover  the  western 
parts  of  the  province  from  the  Indian  depreda- 

voL.  I.         R  2 


li 


1 . 


I  ! 


t.'       ( 


I 


■  I 


'      -<! 


l^ 


534         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

ticnis,  and  bore  the  name  of  the  province.    In 
August  1746,  an  army  of  about  nine  hundred 
French    and    Indians   set   out    from    Crown 
Point,  under  the  command  of  M.  de  Vaudrieul, 
to  attack  this  place.     They  came  before  it,  Au  • 
gust  the  twentieth.     The  fort  was  commanded 
by  colonel   Hawks  j  but   thirty  three  persons 
were  in  the   garrison,   including  women  and 
children  ;  and  the  fort  was  not  properly  provi- 
ded with  ammunition.     Haw^ks  defended  the 
place  with  much  fortitude  and  spirit,  but  at  the 
end  of  twenty  eight  hours,  he  had  expended 
his  powder,  and  was  obliged  to  propose  terms 
of  capitulation.     It  was  agreed  that  the  garrison 
shculd  be  prisoners  of  war,^  but  that  none  of 
them  should  be  delivered  to  the  Indians.     The 
day  after  the  capitulation  was  compleated,  Vau- 
drieul divided  the  prisoners,  and  delivered  the 
one  half  of  them  to  the  Indians  ;  one  of  the 
prisoners  being  unable  to  travel,  \ras  immedi- 
ately killed.     The  French  general,  when  ac- 
cused of  an  open  violation  of  the  capitulation, 
assigned  as  the  reason  for  his  conduct,  the  state 
of  his  army  ;    that  they  were  in  danger  of  a 
mutiny,  the  Indians  being  highly  irritated  that 
they  were  by  the  capitulation  deprived  of  their 
part  of  the  plunder  and  prisoners.     Hawks  lost 
but  one  man  in  the  siege  ;  and  supposed  he 
could  have   preserved  the  forty  liad  he  been 
supplied    with     ammunition    and    provisions. 
From  the  best  accounts  that  he  could  procure, 
the  enemy,  in  those  that  were  slain  or  died  of 
their  wounds,  lost  forty  five  of  their  men  in  this 
enterprise. 
Mr.  Shirley,  to  the  astonislunent  of  all 


•I  ■■     V 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


535 


revisions. 


Europe,  having  succeeded  in  effecting  the  con- 
quest of  Louisbourg  by  the  New-England 
troops,  was  deeply  engaged  in  a  plan  for  the  re- 
duction of  the  French  dominions  in  the  northern 
parts  of  America.  For  this  purpose  in  the  fall 
of  1745,  he  had  written  to  the  British  Ministry, 
soliciting  the  aid  of  a  fleet  and  army  to  attempt 
the  conquest  of  Quebec,  while  the  colony  forces 
should  be  engaged  in  an  expedition  against 
Crown  Point,  1  he  British  Ministry  agreed  to 
the  proposals,  and  Shirley  with  his  usual  spirit 
of  energy  and  enterprise,  engaged  all  the  New- 
England  provinces,  and  New- York  in  the  pro- 
posed expedition.  The  provinces,  animated 
by  the  success  at  Louisbourg,  pursued  the  bu- 
siness with  great  eagerness  ;  their  troops  were 
raised  early  in  the  season,  and  they  waited  all 
summer,  itiipatient  for  intelligence  and  orders 
from  England.  In  this  state  of  impatience  and 
expectation,  the  news  came  that  a  large  fleet 
and  army  from  France,  had  arrived  at  Nova- 
Scotia,  commanded  by  the  duke  D'Anvillc  ; 
that  it  was  designed,  and  powerful  enough  to 
recover  Louisbourg,  take  Annapolis,  to  break 
up  the  settlements  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  effect  the  conquest  of  Boston, 
and  perhaps  of  New- York.  England  was  not 
more  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  the  Spanish 
armada  in  1588,  than  was  Boston,  and  the  other 
sea  ports,  on  this  occasion.  Alarm  and  terror 
ran  through  the  country,  and  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  or  heard,  but  preparations  to  defend  the 
maritime  towns,  and  sea  coasts.  An  uncom- 
mon series  of  misfortunes,  losses,  storms  and 
shipwrecks,  destroyed  the  power,  aad  defeated 


ii 


ill 


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i 

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$36 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


the  designs  of  the  French  armada  ;  and  those 
of  their  ships,  that  escaped  destruction  by  the 
storms  and  seas,  returned  singly  to  France, 
without  having  made  any  attempts  upon  the 
English  colonies.  When  the  alarm  occasioned 
by  the  French  fleet  had  subsided,  and  it  became 
known  that  it  was  nearly  destroyed,  and  was  at- 
tempting to  return  to  France,  Mr.  Shirley'c 
hopes  revived  that  he  might  still  efiect  some- 
thing against  the  enemy.  So  much  was  he 
engaged  in  the  business,  that  he  proposed  to 
make  the  attacks  upon  the  enemy  in  the  midst 
of  winter ;  that  the  New-Hampshire  troops 
should  proceed  by  the  way  of  Connecticut  riv- 
er,  to  the  Indian  village  of  St.  Francis,  and  lay 
it  waste  ;  and  that  the  Massachusetts,  Connec- 
ticut, and  New- York  troops,  at  the  same  time 
should  move  on  through  lake  George,  and  at- 
itempt  the  conquest  of  Crown  Point.  Such 
was  Mr.  Shirley's  influence  at  tliat  time,  that 
all  the  provinces  which  had  raised  troops  for 
the  expedition,  agreed  to  his  proposal  of  a  win- 
ter  campaign,  except  Connecticut.  To  that 
colony,  such  an  experiment  appeared  too  dan- 
gerous and  uncertain  ;  and  it  was  owing  to 
their  refusal  to  join  in  it,  that  the  winter  expe- 
dition was  given  up.* 

On  Connecticut  river,  the  most  advanced 
settlement  at  that  time,  was  at  a  place  called 
Number  Four,  now  Charlestown  in  New- 
Hampshire.  A  fort  had  been  built  there  some 
years  before,  which  was  designed  to  protect  the 
settlements  and  forts  in  the  vicinity.     From  the 

♦  Belknap'e  Hist.  Nfw  Hampshire,  Vol.  a,  p.  234, 


HISTOHY  OF  VERMONT.      2S^ 

commencement  of  the  war  several  parties  of  In^ 
diuns  had  appeared  at  that  place  ;  and  at  dif- 
ferent times  had  killed,  and  captivated  some  ok 
the  inhabitants,  and  frequently  destroyed  their, 
cattle.  In  the  spring  of  the  year  1747,  the  en- 
emy made  an  attempt  to  take  the  fort,  and  de- 
stroy the  settlement.  On  tlie  fourth  of  Apni(, 
M.  Debeline  came  before  it  with  a  large  party 
of  French  and  Indians.  It  was  defended  by 
captain  Stevens,  an  able  and  judicious  officer. 
The  enemy  commenced  their  attack  by  firing 
at  the  fort,  on  all  sides,  with  their  muskets. 
Thesp  making  little  or  no  impression,  they  next 
attempted  to  burn  the  fort  by  setting  fire  to  the 
fences,  log  houses,  and  other  buildings  ;  and 
by  discharging.against  it  flaming  arrows.  Hav- 
ing tried  these  methods  for  two  days  without 
success,  they  next  prepared  a  wheel  carriage, 
loaded  with  dry  faggots.  Th^s  machine  they 
pushed  before  the^l  to  set  fire  to  the  fort,  while 
it  served  to  protect  them  from  the  fire  of  the 
garrison.  These  attempts  were  defeated  by 
the  bravery  and  prudence  of  Stevens  and  his 
men.  Debeline  then  urged  Stevens  to  surren- 
der the  garrison,  and  be  conducted  to  Montreal 
as  prisoners  of  war  ;  threatening  to  storm  the 
fort  and  put  all  to  the  sword,  if  this  was  refus- 
ed. In  answer  he  was  told  that  the  garrison 
had  determined  to  defend  the  fort  to  the  last 
extremity.  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  it 
was  proposed,  if  Stevens  would  sell  them  pro- 
visions they  would  depart.  This  also  was  re- 
fused ;  but  Stevens  informed  them  he  wculc^ 
give  five  bushels  of  corn  for  any  captive,  for 
>vhom  they  would  give  an  hostage,  till  they 


\\  -' 


i  :J 

I 

I  \; 


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!•! 


p..'  I  \ 

■■-,  (•! 

i .  -IP  , 


)<l 


1       .■  ' 


V'f ' 


111 


^38         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL, 

could  be  brought  from  Canada.  On  receiving 
this  answer  a  few  ^uns  were  fired,  and  Debe- 
line  with  his  troops  withdrew  to  Crown  Point. 
Sir  Charles  Knowles,  a  commodore  in  the  Brit- 
Ssh  navy,  was  then  in  Boston  harbor  ;  and  so 
inuch  did  he  admire  the  bravery,  and  soldier 
like  conduct  of  Stevens  in  defending  his  fort, 
that  he  presented  him  with  a  valuable  and  ele- 
gant sword,  as  a  testimony  of  respect.  From 
this  circumstance  it  was  that  the  town  when  in- 
corporated  by  the  government  received  the 
name  of  Charlestown.* 

During  the  remainder  of  this  war  the  In- 
dians were  scattered  around  the  frontiers  in 
small  parties,  and  did  much  damage  to  the  in- 
habitants ;  burning  their  houses,  destroying 
their  cattle,  pillaging  their  property,  killing 
some  of  the  inhabitants,  and  making  captives  of 
others  ;  but  there  was  not  any  regular  expedi- 
tion undertaken  by  the  French  till  the  treaty  of 
peace  at  Aix  la  Chapelle  of  October  the  seventh, 
1748,  put  an  end  to  the  war,  between  the  Eng- 
lish and  French  colonies.  But  it  was  not  till 
the  next  year,  that  the  Indians  ceaged  from  theii< 
hostilities. 


iij 
li 


*  Bflkiwp's  Hiak  New  Hampthire,  Vol.  i.  p.  sjl. 


( 


ri;    I 


AJ' 


•    \ 


:  in 


s 


History  of  Vermont.     33d 


CHAPTER  xi. 

\Var.  From  t/ie  t/ear  1750  to  1757,  Confer* 
ences  at  Paris.  Measures  of  the  Frenclu 
Embassy  and  defeat  qf  JFash'mgton.  Fiews 
of  the  English  and  French  colonies.  Congress^ 
and  plan  of  union  at  Albany.  Council  q/' gen- 
erals and  governors  at  Alexandria.  Expedi- 
tion and  defeat  of  Braddock.  Success  oj 
Monckt07i  and  PFinsloxu  in  Nova  Scotia, 
Proposed  expedition  to  JViagara.  Proceed- 
ings of  baron  Dieskau  at  lake  Champlain;, 
Victory  of  Johnson  at  lake  George.  Terminal 
tion  of  the  campaigns  of  1755.  Military  ar- 
rangements of  the  British  ministry  in  17 56, 
Capture  of  Oswego  by  Montcalm.  Inactivity 
of  the  earl  of  London, 

1752.  BY  the  treaty  of  Aix  la  Chap- 
pclle,  the  controversy  between  the  British  and 
French  crowns  relative  to  their  claims  in  A- 
tnerica  was  referred  to  commissioners  to  be  ap- 
pointed by  the  two  sovereigns  for  that  purpose. 
These  commissioners  met  at  Paris  in  the  year 
1752,  of  which  Mr.  Shirley,  governor  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, was  one.  They  laboured  much  to 
establish  the  claims  of  their  respective  sover- 
eigns by  virtue  of  ancient  grants,  maps,  treaties, 
priority  of  discovery,  ceremonies  of  taking  pos- 
session, concessions,  end  such  other  grounds  of 
claim,  as  were  then  customary  among  sover- 
eigns ;  and  were  supposed  to  be  matters  of  real 
weight  and  importiuice.  The  commissioners 
ivere  not  able  to  come  to  any  agreement ;  and 


1 1  il-^  i-  : 


^  'h 


I  I 

i 


i'i  !  ;• 


■M        * 


lili. 


\<f 


hi 


^.  ■: 


7 


,i 


,  i^  i 


r     ! 


^.^ 


)J40       NATURAL    AND   CFVIL 

ho  otlier  advantage  resulted  from  their  labors 
and  controversies,  than  a  wcW  written  account 
of  their  conferences,  containing  much  historical 
and  geographical  information, 

\75i.  In  the  riieati  time  the  settlers  in  the 
English  and  French  colonies,  ^vcre  making 
nearer  approaches  to  each  other  ;  and  their  ru- 
lers were  anxious  on  both  sides  to  seize  the 
most  favorable  situations  and  passes  for  new 
forts  and  trading  houses.  These  interferences 
of  the  colonists  took  place  the  most  in  the  pro- 
vinces of  Nova- Scotia,  New- York,  and  Virgi- 
nia.  In  these  encroachirtents  the  French  gener- 
ally discovered  the  most  foresight,  vigilance^ 
and  activity,  lliey  surprised  Logstown,  which 
the  Virginians  had  built  upon  the  Ohio  ;  made 
themselves  masters  of  the  block-house,  and 
truck- house,  with  the  stores  of  twenty  thousand 
pounds  value,  and  destroyed  the  British  traders  : 
An  officer,  with  a  large  force  came  down  the 
Ohio,  and  reduced  a  fort,  which  the  Virginians 
had  built  on  the  forks  of  the  Monongehala. 
The  marquis  Du  Quesne  was  at  that  time  in- 
vested with  the  chief  command  in  New-France. 
Of  an  active  and  enterprising  genius,  in  the 
year  1753,  he  began  a  fort  and  settlement  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  at  the  place  from  whence 
he  had  driven  the  English,  now  called  Pitts- 
burgh ;  designed  to  secure  a  station  on  that 
beautiful  and  extensive  river,  which  should  en- 
gross the  trade,  and  command  the  Indians  in  the 
adjacent  parts  of  the  country.  The  governor 
of  Virginia,  Mr.  Dinwiddie,  was  alarmed  at  so 
ileal*  approach  of  the  French  to  the  settlements 
in  that  pro^'i^ce.     On  October  the  thirty  first 


'ir  labors 
account 
I  historical 

Ts  ill  the 
making 
their  ru- 
ize  the 
for  new 
rferences 
I  the  pro- 
ti  Virgi. 
'h  gener- 
'igiiance^ 
^",  which 
P  ;  made 
Mse,   and 
[thousand 
I  traders : 
lown  the 
irginians 
>ngehala. 
time  in- 
-  France. 
,  in  the 
nent  on 
whence 
d  Pitts- 
on  that 
)uld  en- 
is  in  the 
ovenior 
?d  at  so 
lements 
ty  first 


HISTORY  or  VERMONT.        3^1 

he  wrote  to  the  commander  of  the  French 
troops,  complaining  of  sundry  acts  of  hostility  ; 
and  desiring  to  be  informed,  by  what  authority, 
the  French  troof  3  had  taken  possession  of  a 
territory  belonging  to  his  master,  the  king  of 
Great  Britain. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the  name  of 
George  Washington  was  first  announced 
to  the  world.  Governor  Dinwiddie  gave  him  a 
major's  commission,  and  appointed  him  to  be 
the  bearer  of  his  letter  to  the  commander  of  the 
French  troops.  In  the  winter,  and  through  a 
scene  of  much  suftbring  and  danger,  major 
Washington  executed  the  business  of  his  com- 
mission with  that  intrepid,  determined,  perse- 
vering spirit,  which,  since  that  period,  has  so 
much  engaged  the  attention  and  applause  of  his 
country,  and  of  the  world.  M.  Legardcur  de 
St.  Piei  re,  commander  of  the  French  troops  on 
the  Ohio,  returned  an  answer,  December  the 
fifth,  full  of  spirit  and  resolution,  declaring  the 
country  to  belong  to  the  French  king  ;  and  an- 
nouncing his  determination  to  obey  his  orders^ 
preserve  his  post,  and  retain  a  situation  so  fa- 
vorable to  defence  and  strength. 

1754.  Convinced  by  the  spirited  and  re- 
solute answer  of  the  French  commander  that 
further  encroachments  were  to  be  expected,  the 
governor  and  general  assembly  of  Virginia  de- 
termined to  make  a  serious  opposition  to  the 
French  establishments  on  the  Ohio.  In  Febru- 
ary 1754,  the  assembly  voted  to  raise  three 
hundred  men,  for  the  protection  of  their  fron- 
tiers.  Washington  at  tliat  time  was  a  young 
gentleman  of  twenty  two  years  of  age.  Hii| 
VOL.  u        ^  2 


'.  I 


I 


•<*•' 


i.'i 


.( ■' 


!*,:  >,: 


I    I 


^V     i 


I, 


lii'li 


i'i 


i 

r 

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t 

1 

1 

i 
1 

1     \ 

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A     t 


I'M' 


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r  : 


m 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


conduct,  in  the  embassy  to  t!;;  French  f-om- 
mander,  had  proved  highly  :;:  '.far'ory  to  the 
governor  and  council  j  aiid  hi,  was  now  ap- 
pointed lieutenant  colonel,  and  the  command  of 
the  troops  was  assigned  to  him.  In  addition  to 
the  men  raised  in  Virginia,  two  independent 
companies  of  foot  were  ordered  by  the  king  to 
march  from  New- York  to  the  frontiers  of  Vir- 
ginia and  Pennsylvania. 

On  April  the  third,  Washington  set  out  from 
Alexandria  at  the  head  of  a  little  army  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  seven  men.  On  May  the 
twenty  eighth,  tliey  had  a  skirmish  with  an  ad- 
vanced party  of  the  French  ;  of  which  nine 
were  killed,  with  M.  de  Jumonville  their  com* 
mander,  and  twenty  one  were  taken  prisoners.^ 
A  reverse  of  fortune  soon  took  place  :  While 
Washington  was  waiting  with  about  three  hun- 
dred men  for  a  reinforcement,  he  received  intel- 
ligence that  the  French  were  advancing  with  a 
body  of  nine  hundred  men^  and  two  hundred 
Indians.  On  July  the  third  he  was  attacked 
by  a  forcv'i  greatly  superior  to  his  own,  under 
the  command  of  De  Villier  j  and  after  a  resist- 
ance of  three  hours,  found  it  necessaFy  to  sub- 
mit to  the  superior  force  of  the  enemy.  The 
terms  that  v^ere  offered  to  him  were  of  an  hu- 
jniliating  nature,  but  he  was  no  longer  in  a  situ- 
ation to  refuse  the  demands  of  the  enemy,  and 
was  obliged  to  capitulate*  In  this  engagement 
the  English  had  thirty  killed,  and  fifty  woundedr 
De  Villier  reported  his  loss  to-  be  but  two 
Frenchmen,  and  one  Indian  killed,  and  seven- 
teen wounded  ;  and  boasted  tliat  by  making 
(ise  of  the  French  language,  the  terms  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       348 


I  ( 


•apitulation  wire  so  expressed,  as  to  make  the 
English  acknowledge  that  they  had  committed 
murder  in  the  case  and  camp  of  his  brother  Ju« 
monville  ;  and  that  the  favors  manifested  to 
them  in  the  capitulation,  were  designed  to  show 
how  much  they  desired  to  treat  them  as  friends. 
Hostilities  being  thus  commenced,  and  some  of 
the  Indians  slain,  it  was  known  that  in  confor- 
mity to  what  had  always  been  the  maxinw  and 
customs  of  the  savages,  the  other  tribes  would 
immediately  engage,  and  an  Indian  war  would 
commence  from  one  end  of  the  British  colonies 
to  the  other.  And  before  the  summer  was 
ended,  the  Indians  all  round  the  frontiers  from 
Virginia  to  the  province  of  Maine,  appeared  to 
be  in  arms,  and  began  their  attacks  upon  the 
English. 

Such  was  the  commencement  of  war  in 
1754  ;  a  war,  in  which  all  Europe  was  soon  to 
be  involved  ;  and  by  which,  the  empire  and 
destinies  of  North  America  were  to  be  decided. 
The  French,  with  a  policy  superior  to  the  Eng- 
lish, had  for  several  years  been  pursuing  an  uni- 
form and  systematic  plan  of  colonization. 
Their  settlements  in  Canada  and  Louisiana  were 
at  a  great  distance  from  each  other.  By  means 
of  the  lakes,  and  the  rivers  St.  Lawrence  and 
Mississippi,  they  had  found  situations  by  which 
these  settlements  might  be  connected  by  a  chain 
of  posts  and  forts.  The  plan  they  were  execu- 
ting, was  to  take  possession  of  all  the  comman- 
ding situations  from  one  colony  to  tne  other  ; 
to  erect  forts  and  trading  houses,  not  far  from 
each  other  ;  and  thus  to  command  the  trade, 
exclude  the  Knglish  from  the  Indian  ^ountry^ 


1 1- 4: 


1     'h 


.--'oi 


:'ii 


•. ' 


.<  I 


'iU 


1  m 


l!  : 


U    •  ! 


I  I 


I    'I 


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S44         NATURAL  AND   CIVIL 

commerce,  and  alliance,  and  confine  them  to  a 
narrow  limit  along  the  sea  coast,  and  prevent 
their  extending  any  further  to  the  westward. 
The  English  colonies  saw  their  policy,  and  were 
alarmed  with  the  measures  tliey  were  so  inces- 
santly and  zealously  pursuing  ;  and  determined 
to  employ  their  superior  numbers  and  power, 
to  oppose  the  French  proceedings  ;  and  to  ef- 
fect some  plan  to  produce  a  greater  uniformity 
in  their  councils  and  measures.  Both  parties- 
had  long  been  in  the  habit  of  trying  to  engage 
the  Indian  tribes  in  their  quarrels,  and  to  in- 
flame the  savage  vengeance  against  their  oppo- 
Bcrs.  They  had  now  approached  so  near  to 
each  other  in  their  settlements,  that  a  constant 
interference  of  views,  interests  and  situations, 
could  not  fail  to  make  their  commerce  precari- 
ous, and  their  neighborhood  full  of  animosity 
and  danger.  As  peace  could  no  longer  be  ex- 
pected between  the  iSnglish  and  French  colo- 
nies, the  period  seemed  to  be  now  come  in 
which  the  grand  contest  must  take  place,  which 
of  the  'countries  should  be  subdued  ;  and  whether 
France  or  England  for  the  future,  should  have 
the  empire  of  North  America.  And  all  parties 
now  set  themselves  very  seriously  to  prepare 
for  the  exertion  of  all  their  powers  and  strength. 
Th  e  first  step  necessary  for  the  English  col- 
onies,, was  to  agree  upon  some  plan  of  Union ^ 
for  their  mutual  protection  and  operations.  The 
British  secretary  of  state  ^\  rote  to  the  governors 
of  the  colonics,  urging  such  a  measure,  and  a 
favorable  opportunity  now  presented  to  make 
the  attempt.  A  Congress  of  Commissiontrg 
from  the  colonics  had  been  appointed  at  Albany, 


i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      845fc 

fbT  the  purpose  of  holding  a  conference  with  the 
six  nations,  and  to  consult  on  measures  for  the 
general  interest  and  welfare.  Governor  Shirley 
proposed  to  the  several  governors,  tliat  their 
commissioners  should  be  instructed  on  the  sub- 
ject of  an  Union  atnong  the  colonies. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  June,  the  commissioner^ 
assembled,  and  on  the  eighteenth,  the  Congress 
was  opened.  It  consisted  of  delegates  irom 
New- Hampshire,  Massac  .husetts,  Rhode- Island, 
Connecticut,  New- York,  Pennsyl/ania,  and 
Maryland.  They  agreed  to  take  their  places  in 
geographical  order,  beginning  at  the  north  ;  and 
having  adjusted  their  ceremonies  and  rules  of 
proceeding,  on  the  twenty  ninth  they  were  ready 
to  treat  with  the  Indians,  who  had  been  assem* 
bled  for  that  purpose.  The  ceremonies  and 
formality  that  generally  attend  an  Indian  treaty, 
render  it  a  matter  both  of  curiosity  and  instruc- 
tion. The  arrangement  that  was  adopted  on 
this  occasion,' was  designed  to  give  importance 
to  the  transaction.  Mr.  De  Lancey,  lieutenant 
governor,  and  at  that  time  commander  in  chief 
of  New- York,  within  whose  territory  the  lands 
of  the  six  nations  chiefly  lay,  was  appointed 
speaker  to  address  the  Indians.  On  his  right 
hand  were  the  commissionerg  from  the  colonies  ; 
on  his  left  hand,  were  the  council  of  New- York, 
officers,  and  citizens  of  rank  and  respectability. 
In  the  front  were  the  Sachems  and  chiefs  of  the 
six  nations,  attended  by  many  of  their  tribes ; 
arranged  in  a  circular  form,  and  preserving  a 
solemn  silence.  The  speech  turned  on  the  cus- 
tomary topics,  how  much  the  French  injured 
And  abused,  iuid  how  much  the  English  loved 


■'     :U 


!  I 


■\'v 


^\- 


■'  J;' 

'     ' '   . 
■   .(I   ' 

'I'; ' 


■  .','   i. 


!m1'' 


j  I 
( 


l^^'l^ 


ny 


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1 1  •: 


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i 

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I    ; 

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'll 


ai5 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


and  benefitted  them  ;  and  that  they  now  valued 
their  friendship  in  the  highest  degree,  and 
should  probably  soon  want  their  assistance  to 
conquer  and  extiq^ate  the  French.  To  give 
weight  to  their  eloquence,  and  to  make  more 
effectual  impressions  on  the  savage  mind,  a  val- 
uable present  was  made  to  the  Indians  by  order 
of  tlie  British  king ;  and  sevrral  of  the  colony 
governments,  on  this  occasion  followed  the  ex- 
ample  of  their  sovereign,  and  endeavored  by 
their  donations  to  secure  the  Indian  friendship 
and  forbearance  to  their  particular  provinces. 
At  no  time  had  the  presents  made  to  the  In- 
dians  amounted  to  so  large  a  sum,  and  no  art 
or  address  was  spared  to  secure  their  friendship. 
The  Indians  perfectly  well  understood  the  bu- 
siness, and  were  well  pleased  with  the  presents, 
and  with  the  attention  that  the  British  king  and 
colonies  had  paid  to  them.  Their  answer  was 
expressive  of  gratitude,  and  of  a  sense  of  their 
own  importance  ;  and  they  very  plainly  told  the 
commissioners,  that  the  English  were  not  enough 
attentive  to  tlteir  business  and  interest  ;  That 
in  the  last  war  they  had  deserted  some  of  their 
©wn  forts  ;  that  theii'  frontier  city,  Albany,  was 
almost  in  a  defenceless  state  ;  and  that  the 
French  managed  the  business  of  fortifying  and 
maintaining  their  garrisons,  much  better  than 
the  English  had  done, 

Thz  treaty  with  the  Indians  being  finished, 
Mie  next  business  of  the  commissioners  was  to 
form  some  plan  of  general  wiion,  and  defence  for 
all  the  colonies.  The  commissioners  were  a- 
mong  the  first  men  in  the  colonies  for  rank,  a- 
biiities,    fortune,    and    influence.     Instead    ^i^ 


''  i  I 


I:!     ' 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.      34f 


contemplating  any  sach  events  as  a  contest  with 
Great  Britain,  or  an  American  Independence, 
the  question  was  how  to  establish  such  an  un* 
ion  and  government  among  the  colonies,  a* 
should  prevent  their  destruction  and  conquest 
by  the  French.  One  member  from  each  colo- 
ny was  appointed  for  this  purpose  ;  Atkinson 
of  New-Hampshire,  Hutchinson  of  Massachu- 
setts, Hopkins  of  Rhode- Island,  Pitkin  of  Con- 
necticut, Smith  of  New- York,  Franklin  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  Tasker  of  Maryland*  In 
adjusting  a  plan  of  union  and  defence^  different 
political  sentiments  were  found  to  prevaiL 
Some  were  fearful  of  throwing  too  much  power 
into  the  hands  of  the  king,  and  others  were  as 
much  afraid  of  giving  too  much  power  to  the 
colonies.  Alai'med  however  on  all  sides  with 
tlie  increasing  power  and  policy  of  France,  they 
were  extremely  cautious  not  to  break  on  these 
points i  and  in  a  few  days  agreed  upon  a  result. 
Their  plan  was,  that  application  should  be  made 
to  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain  for  an  act  to 
constitute  a  Grand  Legislative  Council  in  the 
colonies.  This  council  was  to  consist  of  dele- 
gates from  the  several  Legislative  assemblies, 
subject  to  the  eontroul  of  a  presidfit  general, 
to  be  appointed  by  the  crovvii,  and  to  have  a 
nef^ative  voice.  This  council  v,cre  to  enact 
general  laws  ;  apportion  the  quotas  of  mei  and 
money,  to  be  raised  by  each  cofony  ;  determine 
the  building  of  forts  ;  regulate  the  operation  of 
armies  ;  and  concert  all  measures  for  the  com- 
Bion  protection  and  interest.  The  delegates  of 
Connecticut  alone  entered  their  dissent,  and 
their  objection  was  against  the  negative  voice 
a^sii^jned  to  th«  crown  i 


,     (( 


f'l\       :' 


'^1;  I' 


] 

1 1 


''t  ^ ' 


S4ft 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


With  the  plan  of  union  and  defence,  a  very 
just  representation  was  made  to  the  king,  of  the 
state  and  danger  of  the  American  colonies  ;  and 
copies  of  both  were  laid  before  the  several  as- 
semblies.    But  the  plan  of  American  union  and 
defence  had  the  singular  fortune  of  being  re- 
jected, both  by  the  mother  country,  and  by  the 
colonies  :  By  Great  Britain,  because  it  assigned 
too  many,  and  too  important  powers  to  the  pro- 
vincial assemblies  ;  and  by  the  assemblies,  be- 
cause it  assigned  such  extensive  and  important 
powers  to  the  sovereign,    and  his    ministers. 
Thus  at  the  very  time  when  the  fears  and  ap- 
prehensions  of  Great  Britain,  and  her  American 
colonies,  were  at  an  unusual  height,  both  were 
fearful    of  the    consequences   of  new  arrange- 
ments ;  and  endeavored  with  singular   caution 
to  guard  against  any  questions,  that  might  arise 
respecting  the  prerogatives  of  the  king,  or  the 
liberties  of  the  colonies.     Th©  plan  of  American 
union  was  agreed  to  on  the  fourth   day  of  July 
1754  ;  but  not  a  single  member  of  the  congress 
that  drew  it  up,  had  an  idea  thit  they  were  en- 
gaged  in  a  plan,  which  it  was  in  the  destinies  of 
nature  and  providence  to  complea^,  in  the  course 
of  twenty  two  years  from  that  day.* 

While  these  measures  were  gohig  on  at 
Albany,  Mr.  Shirley  was  employed  in  securing 
the  eastern  parts  of  Massachusetts  ;  and  built 
the  forts  of  Riclimond  and  Western,  to  protect 
the  inhabitants,  and  check  the  Indians,  in  that 
)art  of  the  country.  Nor  was  the  court  of 
^ireat  Britain  inattentive  to  American  matters  ', 


&^. 


*  Briknap  \  Hisc>  New  Iiani|)Kbirc,  V«l.  a,  p.  %%i^ 


i\ 


I  * 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        349 


I   'I 


%.  ' 


On  November  the  twenty  fifth,  major  general 
Braddock  was  appointed  general  and  comman- 
der in  chief  of  all  the  troops  which  wore  to  be 
sent  to,  or  raised  in  North  America  ;  and  was  or- 
dered to  repair  to  Virginia  with  two  Irish  regi- 
ments, and  to  be  ready  for  the  military  opera- 
tions of  th^  next  spring. 

1755.  Intent  on  prosecuting  the  war  with 
vigor,  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1755,  Mr- 
Shirley  convened  the  assembly  of  Massachu- 
setts, and  communicated  to  them  the  plan  that 
he  had  formed  for  reducing  fort  Frederick  at 
Crown  Point,  the  ensuing  spring  ;  and  his  in- 
tention to  appoint  colonel  Johnson  of  New- 
York  to  the  command.  The  assembly  readily 
concurred  in  the  measures  proposed  by  the  go- 
vernor ;  and  voted  to  raise  their  quota  of  the 
troops.  The  plan  being  thus  adopted  by  Mas- 
sachusetts, commissioners  were  sent  to  the 
neighboring  governments  stating  the  assistance 
that  was  desired  of  them,  and  requesting  their 
concurrence  and  aid.  Thus  were  the  New- 
England  provinces.  New- York,  and  New-Jer- 
sey, all  put  in  motion  for  a  vigorous  expedition 
against  the  French* 

While  Shirley  was  thus  moving  all  the 
r  thern  provinces,  Braddock  arrived  at  Wil- 
liamstown  in  Virginia,  February  the  twentieth, 
with  two  Irish  regiments.  Expresses  were  im- 
mediately sent  to  the  governors  of  the  colonies 
to  meet  him  at  Alexandria  on  the  thirteenth  of 
April,  for  a  corisultation  on  the  state  of  Ameri- 
can affairs^  and  the  business  of  the  approaching 
campaign.  The  convention  met  as  was  propos- 
'-d,  and  the  next  day  entered  upon  the  business 

VOL.    I.  T   2 


,11- 

't  ■ 

-    M.    I 


1   '     1 


■\  T 

!  .'  'I 


li 


i    ! 


.1 


350 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


of  the  ensuing  season.  At  this  convention  the 
governors  of  Virginia,  Maryland,  Pennsylvania, 
New- York,  and  Mssachusctts  attended  ;  with 
colonel  Johnson,  commissioner  of  Indian  affairs. 
It  was  found  that  Braddock  had  positive  orders, 
to  proceed  himself  with  the  greatest  expedition, 
to  reduce  the  French  fort  Du  Quesne,  on  the 
Ohio.  Nothing  more  was  therefore  in  his  pow- 
er, than  to  settle  some  general  arrangements  for 
the  campaign  with  the  convention ;  and  to  leave 
the  execution  to  others,  as  he  was  himself  very 
litde  acquainted  with  the  state  of  things  in  A- 
merica.* 

At  this  convention  it  was  concluded  that  four 
expeditions  should  be  carried  on  against  the 
French  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  One  a- 
gainst  fort  Du  Quesne,  under  the  command  of 
Braddock.  Aiiother  was  to  be  against  Niagara, 
under  the  direction  of  Shirley.  A  third  against 
Crown  Point,  under  the  command  of  Johnson  ; 
and  a  fourth  against  the  French  forts  and  settle- 
mcnts  in  the  bay  of  Fundy  and  Nova  Scotia  ; 
to  be  commanded  by  colonel  Monckton,  a  Brit- 
ish officer,  but  to  be  executed  chiefly  by  New 
England  troops  under  the  command  of  colonel 
Winslow.  The  plan  of  operations  for  the  cam- 
paign being  thus  adjusted,  the  convention  dis- 
solved ;  and  Braddock,  Shirley,  Johnson  and 
Monckton  prepared  themselves  for  the  expedi- 
tions, of  which  they  were  to  take  the  immediate 
comp-^:  id.         ,. 

Braddock  wai  li  major  general  in  the  Brit- 
ish army  ;  a  man  of  undoubted  courage,  and 


*  Review  cf  military  operations  in  North  America,  p.  lOi    Supppse^ 
««  be  wrote  by  Mr.  Smith  of  New  York. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        351 


'! 


r: 


I  I 

1  '   ;. 


expert  in  all  the  punctilios  of  a  review,  having 
been  brought  up  in  the  English  guards.     In  his 
manners  he  was  haughty,  positive  and  difficult 
of  access.     Iliough  well  acquainted  with  the 
European  method  of  war,  he  had  no  idea  of  the 
service  in  a  country  thinly  inhabited   and  every 
where  abounding  with  woods,  mountains,  rivers, 
morasses,  and  dangerous  defiles.     And  so  at- 
tached was  he  to  the  European  customs  of  re- 
gular discipline  and  order,  that  he  despised  his 
provincial  and  Indian  auxiliaries  ;  and  treated 
with  contempt  the  advice  of  those,  who  endeav- 
ored to  give  him  information  of  the    Indian 
methods  of  attack  ;  and  to  warn  him  of  the  dan- 
ger of  ambush,  and  surprise.     On  the  twentieth 
of  April,  he  set  out  with  an  army  of  twenty  two 
hundred  men,  from  Alexandria  ;  and  after  the 
most  extreme  difficulties  and  exertions,  arrived 
on  the  npnth  of  July,  at  the  river  Monongahala. 
Having  passed  the  river  about  noon,  he  was 
within  seven  miles  of  fort  Du  Quesne,  the  object 
of  his  hopes  and  wishes.     Marching  on  in  per- 
fect security,  and  with  the  most  confident  ex- 
pectation of  victory  and  fame,  in  an  instant  his 
army  was  alarmed  with  the  Indian  yell  ;  and 
attacked  on  every  side,  by  a  concealed  party  of 
French  and  Indians.     Braddock  exerted  himself 
with  much  courage  in  the  manner  of  an  Euro- 
pean battle  ;  but  the  European  discipline,  artil- 
lery, and  arms,   availed  him  nothing.     He  nei- 
ther knew  wlierclv^  enemy  was,  or  how  to  op- 
pose their  arts  and  methods   of  war  :  Having 
exerted  himself  to  the  utmost,  and  to  no  man- 
ner  of  purjiosc,  he  himself  and  the   greater  part 
©f  his  army  were  slain^  by  a  party  of  about  four 


:  t 


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I, 


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_       I  »llll»»tii  <lll  I  I  in  I  WW  1—HWWWMI 


.    i 


«        * 


\         \ 


352       NATURAL   AND    CIVIL 

hundred  Indians,  placed  in  ambush,  safe  from, 
his  arms,  and  almost  concealed  from  his  sight 
Thus  despising  his  American  friends  and  ene- 
mies, the  British  general  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the 
superior  knowledge  and  arts  of  the  American 
Indians  :  And  it  was  owing  to  the  bravciy  and 
prudence  of  colonel  Washington,  that  a  retreat 
was  effected  ;  and  the  remaining  part  of  the  ar- 
my rescued  from  destruction.  In  this  battle 
scarcely  any  of  the  enemy  were  slain,  but  the 
loss  of  the  English  amounted  to  seven  hundred 
men.  The  defeat  was  total,  and  the  carnage 
imcommoniy  great,  of  eighty  five  officers,  sixty 
four  were  slain  or  dangerously  wounded.  All 
the  artillery,  ammunition,  and  baggage  of  the 
army  were  left  to  the  enemy  ;  and  among  the 
rest,  the  gencraPs  cabinet,  containing  all  his  or- 
ders, letters,  and  instructions.  The  JTrench 
court  published  the  whole  of  these  papers  ;  and 
in  their  printed  memorials  and  manifestoes,  a- 
vowed  to  all  Europe  that  they  had  now  com- 
pleat  information  of  the  designs  of  Great  Bri- 
tain and  her  colonies. 

The  army  that  was  sent  to  Nova  Scotia,  was 
put  under  the  immediate  command  of  colonel 
Monckton,  a  British  officer..  Colonel  Law- 
rence, tlie  lieutenant  governor  and  commander 
in  that  province,  had  found  it  impossible  to 
raise  the  recruits  which  he  wanted,  in  Nova 
Scotia.  His  attention  was  turned  to  New  Eng- 
land, as  the  only  place  in  wliich  he  could  ex- 
pect success.  With  that  view,  colonel  Monck- 
ton  had  made  a  voyage  to  Boston,  in  the  latter 
part  of  winter,  and  consulted  Shirley  upon  the 
business.     Such  was  the  reluctance  of  the  New 


ilK 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      355 


^  ' 


Kngland  people  to  enlist  under  British  officers, 
that  they  found  it  impossible  to  enj^a^e  men  to 
ierve  in  the  British  regiments,  or  under  British 
officers.  It  was  proposed  as  tlie  only  c  xpcdient, 
that  bore  the  appearance  of  success,  to  procure 
some  of  the  New  England  officers,  who  had 
served  in  the  former  wars,  to  engage  in  the 
business.  Colonel  Winslow,  of  Maishficld,  was 
at  that  time  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  bravest 
and  most  experienced  of  the  provincial  officers. 
He  had  been  an  officer  in  the  expedition  to  Car- 
thagcna,  under  general  Wentworth  ;  and  had 
much  of  the  military  genius  and  spirit,  which 
had  distinguished  his  family  in  the  Indian  wars 
of  the  colonies.  It  was  concluded  that  if  he 
would  engage  in  the  business,  the  men  might 
be  raised  with  ease  and  expedition.  Monck- 
ton  visited  and  consulted  Winslow  upon  the 
business.  Winslow  vas  pleased  \\'ith  the  pros- 
pect, but  wished  to  have  the  command  of  the 
troops  himself.  Monckton  was  extremely  anx- 
ious to  procure  the  men,  but  could  not  think  of" 
giving  the  command  to  Winslow.  After  seve- 
ral attempts  to  compromise  the  matter,  they 
came  to  this  agreement,  that  Winslow  should 
have  the  command  of  all  the  men  that  should  be 
raised  in  the  New  England  pro^•inces,  and  bo 
equal  at  all  times  in  command  to  Monckton^ 
but  only  in  time  of  action  ;  on  which  occasion, 
the  command  of  the  whole  should  be  in  Monck- 
ton, who  was  to  be  coiisidered  as  the  senior  of- 
ficer.^ This  point  being  adjusted,  Wii^.slovv- 
v,as   commissioned  by  governor   Shirley,  anc^ 


•l  1 


:.    ( 


'•'l 


-!t  '    I 


'"  Window's  relation  to  the  author  in  17^. 


•i-w*'^ 


1' 


r 


li     '  ,       I 


^'11 


i  I 


^H 


354         NATURIAL   A};D  CIVIL 

heartily  engaged  in  the  business.  A  regimcnr 
was  soon  raised  and  sent  on  to  Nova  Scotia. 
Success  attended  the  operations  of  the  British 
and  provincial  troops.  On  their  arrival  at  the 
river  Massaquash,  the  proviiicials  attacked  and 
dispersed  four  hundred  and  lifty  of  the  enemy 
who  were  posted  there,  and  took  their  block 
house  and  brest  works.  On  June  the  twelfth, 
they  invested  the  fort  Beau  Sejour,  and  in  four 
days  obliged  it  to  submit.  The  next  day  thej 
took  the  fort  at  bay  Vcrte,  with  a  large  quantity 
of  stores  and  provisions  ;  and  disarmed  the 
Acadians  to  the  number  of  fifteen  thousand. 
Captain  Rous,  with  three  frigates,  sailed  to  the 
mouth  of  St.  John's  river  ;  tl^e  French  aban- 
doned their  fbrt,  burst  their  cannon,  blew  up 
their  magazine,  and  deserted  the  place.  The 
English  had  but  twenty  men  killed,  and  about 
33' many  wounded  in  the  whole  of  this  expedi- 
tion. It  served  to  preserve  Nova  Scotia,  to 
destroy  tlie  French  power  in  that  part  of  Ameri- 
ca, and  to  raise  the  reputation  and  military  char- 
acter  of  the  provincials. 

After  the  death  of  Braddock,  the  command 
of  all  the  forces  in  North  America  devolved  on 
iihirlcy,  who  hiid  now  a  commission  giving  him 
the  rank  of  major  general.  As  soon  as  the 
council  at  Alexandria  was  finished,  Shirley  re- 
paired to  Bo&ton  ;  and  made  the  most  vigorous 
exertions  to  compleat  and  hasten  the  troops, 
which  were  designed  to  be  under  the  commaiKl 
of  colonel  Johnson,  and  that  were  to  go  with 
colonel  Winslow  to  Nova  Scotia  ;  and  also  to 
raise  a  number  of  batteau  men,  for  the  expedi- 
tion t0  Niagara,     Kmbarrassed  with  so  maiiy 


.  Hi 


ttlSTORY  OF  VERMONT.  35S 


^    ' 


cares,  and  such  a  variety  of  business,  ^nth  his 
utmost  exertions  he  could  not  rcacli  Albany 
till  the  second  week  in  July.  Oswego,  by  the 
route  which  was  usual  at  that  time,  was  esti- 
mated to  be  nearly  three  hundred  miles  west  of 
Albany.  The  passage  was  partly  by  land,  but 
chiefly  by  water,  upon  the  Mohawjk  and  Onon- 
daga rivers  ;  and  at  every  season  of  the  year 
was  both  difficult  and  dangerous.  A  large 
number  of  batteaux  had  been  prepared  for  the 
Gonveyanee  of  the  troops,  stores  and  provisions. 
The  fort  at  Oswego  was  ol  'it  little  strength 
and  much  out  of  repair.     It  formerly  gar- 

risoned by  twenty  five  men  ;  mit  on  the  com- 
mencement of  the  late  controversies,  the  garri- 
son was  augmented  to  fifty  men.  Early  in  th« 
spring,  another  company  of  fifty  men  had  been 
ordered  to  that  station  ;  and  in  the  latter  end  of 
May,  captain  Broadstreet  arrived  with  two  hun- 
dred morcy  and  a  number  of  workmen.  Schuy- 
Ier*s  regiment  from  New  Jersey  had  embarked 
for  that  place,  the  beginning  of  July ;  and  Shir- 
ley's and  Pepperell's  regiments  were  preparing 
to  follow. 

At  this  time  the  news  arrived  of  Braddock's 
defeat  ;  and  was  announced  in  terms  more  hor- 
ridy  awful  and  alarming  than  were  just.  The 
reports  had  an  unhappy  effect  on  the  spirits  and 
conduct  of  the  English  troops.  Suspecting  and 
dreading  another  Indian  massacre,  some  desert- 
ed ;  and  of  the  batteau  men,  not  a  few  left  the 
service.  The  Indians  of  the  six  nations  appeai'- 
cd  to  be  disinclined  to  hostilities  ;  and  were  un- 
willing that  the  operations  of  the  war  should  b§ 
oarried  into  the  western  country ;  which  they 


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'^,^ 


^ 


'% 


.^' 


.<t 


.V 


,^4 


>^ 


^"  M^ 


.6> 


P 
> 


5% 


o^ 


>  f 


',r  ■  If 


!      II 


ii  M 


f.  u 


i 


11" 


ii' 


^!,^ 


HI;  , 


I 


.  i.. 

t 


!!  I 


"A     I   V  M 


356         NATURAL  AND  CiViL 

wished  should  remain  in  a  state  of  tranquility, 
and  be  considered  as  a  place  of  trade  and  com. 
merce.  Nor  could  any  of  them  be  persiiided  to 
join  the  British  troops,  in  their  passage  through 
their  country.  Embarrassed  with  such  difficul- 
ties, it  was  not  till  the  twenty  first  of  August 
that  Shirley  arrived  himself  at  Oswego.  He 
had  scarcely  one  half  of  the  batteau  men  which 
had  been  engaged  for  the  service  ;  and  on  that 
account,  the  transportation  of  provisions  had 
been  so  retarded,  that  he  was  in  no  condition  to 
move  his  army  from  Oswego. 

A  LARGE  convoy  with  provisions  being  ex- 
pected every  holir,  on  September  the  eighteenth 
the  general  called  a  council  of  war,  and  com- 
municated to  them  the  intelligence  he  had 
procured  relating  to  the  French  forts  and  forces 
at  Niagara,  and  Frontenac  ;  with  an  account  of 
his  own  force  and  situation;  He  informed 
them  that  the  number  of  effective  men  in  his 
three  regiments,  and  independent  companies,  a- 
mounted  to  thirteen  hundred  and  seventy  six  ; 
and  that  the  irregulars,  consisting  of  men  from 
Albany  and  the  Indians,  were  only  to  the  num- 
ber of  one  hundred  and  twenty.  At  the  same 
time  he  announced  to  the  council  that  as  soon 
as  the  expected  convoy  should  arrive,  it  was 
his  intention  to  embii^'k  for  Niagara  witli  six 
hundred  regular  troops,  the  Albany  irregulars^ 
and  Indians,  with  the  necessary  artillery  ;  lea- 
ving behind  seven  hundred  of  his  troops  to  pre- 
serve the  camp  and  stores  at  Oswego.  The 
council  were  of  opinion  that  the  expedition  to 
Niagara  was  advisable  ;  and  that  the  works  of 
Oiwego  ought  to  be  enlarged  and  strengthcncJ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        357 


J 


and  that  a  g^rcater  naval  force  should  be  provi- 
ded on  lake  Ontario.  With  his  usual  sj^irit  of 
activity,  Shirley  was  deeply  engaged  in  his  pre- 
parations, when  the  weather  became  uncommon- 
ly tempestuous  and  rainy  ;  and  continued  thus- 
for  thirteen  days.  His  troops  became  sickly  ; 
and  the  Indians  and  others  acquainted  with  th« 
climate,  pronounced  the  season  too  far  advan- 
ced, to  admit  of  such  an  expedition  upon  lake 
Ontario. 

Doubtful  as  to  success  against  Niagara,  and 
anxious  for  the  safety  of  Oswego,  on  Septem- 
ber the  twenty  seventh,  the  general  called  an- 
other council  of  war.  He  represented  to  his  of- 
ficers what  further  intelligence  he  had  received 
of  the  state  of  the  enemy,  the  quantity  of  his 
own  provisions,  and  that  the  numbers   in   his 

camp  now  amounted  to  two  thousand  men 

The  council  were  unanimous  in  their  opinion 
that  it  was  not  advisable  to  proceed  oi^  the  ex- 
pedition to  Niagara  that  fall,  but  to  defer  tlic 
matter  to  the  next  spring  :  and  that  in  the  mean 
time,  the  works  at  Oswego  should  be  repaired 
and  strengthened  ;  and  that  a  new  fort  should 
be  erected,  and  compleated  as  soon  as  possible* 
In  conformity  to  the  advice  of  his  council  the 
general  gave  up  the  prospect  of  an  expedition 
to  Niagara,  till  the  next  spring  ;  and  spent  the 
remainder  of  the  season,  in  repairing  and  erect- 
ing forts  at  Oswego  ;  and  in  strengthening  the, 
English  interest  with  the  Indian  nations  ;  seve- 
ral  of  whom,  distmsted  with  the  Eiu^lish  meth-^ 
ods  of  i)n)cecding,  were  become  wavering  in 
tlieir  attachment  to  the  English,  and  very  doubt- 
ful of  their  success.  It  has  been  customary  tm 
VOL.     I         U  2 


Id'MV 


I, 


'I.       i- 


"11 


.. ., 


['■■''  ' 

it: 


»  1  I 


rr 


f'\    \ 


1   i  I  • 


i  ; 


i 


I   I . 


i'\ 


1 


•'    '•     1 


.   ' 


If  I" 


.  (' 

4        ill"! 

'  ''it 


i  ill 


i,    ' 


it 


ii; 


■!  i 


■  .  I 


1\ 


h;i 


358 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


censure  general  Shirley  for  inactivity  and  dchy 
in  prosecuting  the  expedition  to  Niagara.  In  i,  c 
state  the  country  was  then  in,  it  was  impossible 
to  compleat  such  an  expedition  in  the  course  of 
one  campaign.  The  military  services  in  wliich 
he  had  been  engaged  in  the  course  of  the  year, 
were  prosecuted  with  all  the  activity  and  pru- 
dence the  nature  of  the  service  would  admit.--- 
Few  men  could  have  done  more,  and  probably 
not  one  man  in  America  at  that  time,  could 
have  effected  so  much.  When  the  winter  was 
approaching,  he  made  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  the  defence  of  the  place  ;  gave  the 
command  to  colonel  Mercer,  w  ith  a  garrison  of 
seven  hundred  men,  with  orders  to  continue  the 
works  ;  and  on  October  the  twenty  fourth  set 
out  on  a  journey  to  Albany  and  New- York,  to 
concert  measures  for  the  next  campaign. 

The  expedition  against  Crown  Point  had 
been  puf  under  the  command  of  colonel  Wil- 
liam Johnson.  This  officer  was  a  native  of  Ire- 
land and  had  lived  several  years  in  tlie  Mohawk 
country.  There  he  had  a  fortified  seat  which 
he  called  Mount  Johnson^  near  one  of  the  Mo- 
hawk castles,  and  about  thirty  six  miles  from 
Albany.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  In- 
dian temper  and  character,  had  gained  the  affec- 
tions, and  was  become  the  principal  confident  of 
the  six  nations  :  on  account  of  his  influence 
over  them,  Braddock  liad  entrusted  him  with 
fifty  thousand  pounds  sterling  to  engage  their 
friendship  and  assistance,  in  the  approaching 
campaign.  Next  to  him,  was  general  Lyman 
of  Connecticut  ;  of  a  military  turn,  and  good  a- 
bilities.     The  provincial  tioops  to  the  number 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT        359 


ff      Si 


h    ,       ■■ 


ef  five  or  six  thousand  men  had  assembled  a 
Aibiiny  and  were  in  danger  of  becoming  dis- 
orderly by  their  inactivity  and  want  of  employ- 
ment. Lyman  moved  on  with  his  troops  to  the 
carrying  place,  about  sixty  miles  from  Alban  , 
and  began  a  fort  on  the  east  side  of  Hudson's 
river,  which  is  now  called  fort  Edward  ;  and 
meant  to  remain  at  that  place  till  Johnson  should 
arrive,  with  the  artillery.  It  was  not  till  the  10th 
of  August  that  Johnson  could  set  out  with  his 
artillery  from  Albany  ;  and  aliout  the  latte  end 
of  that  month,  he  proceeded  from  fort  Edward, 
fifteen  miles  more  northerly  j  and  formed  his 
camp  at  the  south  end  of  lake  George,  which 
before  that  time  had  been  called  lake  St.  Sacra- 
ment, the  name  that  Champlain  had  assigned 
to  it. 

Soon  after  he  had  formed  his  encampment, 
he  received  information  by  his  Indian  scouts 
that  a  large  party  of  French  and  Indians  had  ta- 
ken possession  of  Ticonderoga,  an  isthmus 
which  commands  the  passage  between  the  lakes 
George  and  Champlain  ;  but  that  no  works  had 
been  erected.  Johnson  was  informed  of  the  im- 
portance of  that  post  ;  and  wrote  to  Shirley, 
September  the  first,  that  he  was  impatient  to 
get  up  his  batteaux  &  artillery  ;  and  proposed  to 
move  on  with  part  of  his  army,  dispossess  th« 
French  and  secure  the  post  to  himself. — The 
French  however  had  secured  the  possession, 
and  soon  erected  works  sufficiently  strong,  to 
defend  it  against  surprise,  or  an  easy  conquest. 

The  court  of  France,  aware  that  a  war  was 
commencing  in  North  America,  had  early  in 
the  spring  dispatched  a  body   of  troops  to  the 


('        I   ■! 


i'l 


,  1  ,  ; 

\\    '■  I'll. 


^.-ii 


M     i 


1 


i}  i: ,  M 


«.  I 


y*ProS3H^^Wi*Mt<!.'. 


•1:  h 


I,  ! 


:/•       '  t 


;!' 


t   i 


i  J;  :> 

if 


vf 


•! 


n 


i: 


i!;. 


(  t 


,  I 


t 


I    r     I 


360 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


amount  of  four  thousand  men,  for  the  defence 
of  their  nortliern  colonies.  These  troops  sailed 
from  Brest  early  in  the  spring,  with  a  large  quan- 
tity of  warlike  stores,  and  a  fleet  of  twenty  five 
9ail  of  the  line.  Eight  companies  of  these 
troops  had  been  captured,  with  two  French 
men  of  war,  oiF  the  banks  of  Newfoundland,  by 
the  British  fleet  under  the  command  of  admiral 
Boscawen.  One  thousand  were  landed  at  Lou- 
isburg,  for  the  defence  of  that  place.  The  re- 
mainder arrived  at  Quebec,  with  M.  de  Vaudii- 
eul,  governor  general  of  Canada,  and  barren 
Dieskau ,  commander  in  chief  of  the  troops.  The 
French  court- wished  to  reduce  Oswego,  and 
thus  secure  the  command  of  the  lakes.  With 
this  view  Dic:skau  pushed  up  to  Montreal ;  from 
whence,  he  detached  seven  hundred  of  his  troops 
up  the  river,  to  fort  Frontcnac  ;  intending  to 
join  then;  himaelf  with  the  remainder,  as  soon 
as  circumstances  would  permit.  Just  before 
he  had  compleated  his  preparations,  Montreal 
was  alarmed  with  accounts  that  an  Ens:lish  ar- 
my  was  assembled  near  the  lake  St.  Sacrament  ; 
which  was  rcDresented  as  beinsj  numerous,  and 
designed  to  effect  tbe  conquest  of  Crown  Point, 
and  then  penetrate  into  the  country  towards 
Montreal.  A  council  of  war  was  called  on  the 
occasion,  and  Dieskau  was  urged  to  omii  the 
expedition  against  Oswego,  and  proceed  to 
Crov/ii  Point,  for  the  defence  of  the  forts  in  that 
part  of  the  country  agoiinst  the  attempts  of  the 
English  army.  It  was  not  without  much  pcr- 
sua,sion  and  reluctance  that  the  baron  consented 
to  alter  the  plan  of  his  operations,  and  proceec^ 
to  fort  St.  Frederick. 


nil 


f    Ij,    I  »l 


» • 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        361 

When  he  arrived  at  Crown  Point,  he  found 
that  there  was  no  prospect  that  the  English  ar- 
niy  would  soon  make  an  attempt  against  that 
place.  Little  acquainted  with  an  American 
war,  lie  concluded  to  march  on  with  his  troops, 
and  attack  the  English  in  their  camp  ;  and  if 
successfid  to  make  further  attempts  upon  their 
northern  settlements,  Albany  or  Schenectady, 
as  should  be  found  practicable.  In  this  way, 
he  was  not  without  hopes  to  bring  about  the 
reduction  of  Oswego,  by  cutting  off  the  com- 
munication between  that  fortress,  and  the  set- 
tlements in  New  York,  from  which  they  must 
be  supplied  with  provisions.  With  these  hopes 
and  expectations,  Dieskaii  embarked  at  Crown 
Point  with  eighteen  hundred  men,  in  batteaux, 
and  landed  them  at  South  Bay,  now  called 
Westfield.  By  an  Er.glish  prisoner,  the  baron 
received  information  that  fort  Edward  was  al- 
most defenceless  ;  and  that  the  English  camp 
at  the  lake,  was  without  either  entrenchments 
or  cannon.  He  fixed  upon  fort  Edward,  as  the 
place  for  attack  ;  and  marched  on  till  he  came 
within  three  or  four  miles  of  the  place.  There 
he  made  known  his  designs  to  his  army.  It 
consisted  of  two  hundred  regulars,  eight  hun- 
dred militia,  and  seven  or  eight  hundred  In- 
dians. The  general  informed  them,  that  the 
enterprise  would  certainly  succeed  ;  and  that 
by  reducing  fort  Edward,  the  English  army  at 
the  lake  must  necessarily  abandon  their  camp, 
and  disperse  in  confusion,  in  any  direction  in 
which  they  could  escape  :  Then  the  conse- 
quence would  probably  be  that  Albany  would 
also  fall,  and  Oswego  be  subdued  by  the  want. 


'.: 


t     . 


1^' 


S; 


f-'i'ih 


I'  1 


X  1 
1 1 1 


'-il        '     I 


;N 


,i-    , 


At 


h    ..!    ■ 


I 


:    I  It 


I 


j  ■ 

i  ''l 


''>f 


\\ 


w    4 


ill 


•  N 


l  ill. 


,1     t   Ifl 


'<(!' 


* 

1  I 


I  '  1 


I  - 


■    I 


\    I 


I      ■! 


!     I 

It 
i 


1     . 


J.. 


■  J   I 


362 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


of  supplies  and  provisions.  The  Canadians  and 
Indians  were  not  persuaded  that  all  these  effects 
were  about  to  take  place  ;  they  were  fearful  of 
the  effects  of  cannon,  and  were  averse  to  niak. 
ing  an  assault  upon  fort  Edward  on  that  ac- 
count :  But  discovered  a  readiness  to  attack  the 
camp  at  the  lake,  where  they  expected  no  other 
arms  would  he  employed  against  them  but 
musquets.  Dieskau  was  obliged  to  comply 
with  the  inclinations  of  his  troops,  and  abandon- 
ing his  principal  design,  he  changed  his  route, 
and  put  his  army  in  motion  against  the  main 
body  of  the  linglish  at  the  lake. 

It  was  not  till  the  enemy  had  departed  from 
South  Bay,  that  general  Johnson  had  any  intel- 
ligence of  their  approach  or  designs  ;  and  the 
first  information  he  had,  was,  that  a  large  army 
of  Fren?.h  and  Indians  had  left  South  Bay,  and 
were  actually  on  their  march  to  fort  Edward. 
0 1  receiving  this  information  from  some  of  his 
Indian  scouts,  he  dispatched  separate  messen- 
gers to  the  commander  at  fort  Edward,  with 
advice  of  the  enemy's  approach  ;  and  with  or- 
ders to  withdraw  all  the  troops  within  the  works 
which  had  been  thrown  up  at  that  place.  One 
of  the  messengers  was  intercepted  and  slain  : 
The  other  got  back  about  twelve  that  night,  and 
reported  that  he  saw  the  enemy  about  four  miles 
to  the  northward  of  the  fort.  The  next  morn- 
ing Johnson  called  a  council  of  war,  who  rcsoh% 
ed  that  one  thousand  men  should  be  detached, 
with  a  number  of  Indians,  **  to  catch  the  enemy 
in  their  retreat,  either  as  victors,  or  as  defeated 
jn  their  designs."*     This  detachment  was  put 

*  Johnson's  priiJtctl  J/e;icr, 


hlSTOnv  OF  VERMONT.       3(53 


>• ' 


wnder  the  command  of  colonel  Williams,  a  brave 
and  judicious  officer  ;  and  was  attended  by 
more  than  two  hundred  Indians^ 

The    camp  of  the  colony  troops  was  on  the 
banks  of  lake  George,  and  was  covered  on  botU 
sides  with  a  swamp  of  thick  wood.     Upon  the 
departure  of  the  detachment  a  kind  of  breast 
work  was  thrown  up,  of  some  trees  which  were 
cut  down  for  that   purpose  ;  aiid  some  of  the 
cannon,  which  w'ere  received  a  day  or  two  be- 
fore,  were  hauled  up  to  strengthen  the  front. 
Colonel  Williams  met  the  enemy  within  four 
miles  of  the  English  camp  :  In  about  an  hour 
after  his  departure,    a  heavy   fire   was    hea  d 
which  was  judged  to  be  within  three  or  four 
miles   of  the   camp.      Johnson  judged  that  his 
detachment  was  attacked,  and  was  retreating  to 
the  camp.     He  immediately  beat  to  arms,  and 
made  the  best  preparation  he  could  for  the  re- 
ception of  the  enemy.     The  fire  approaching 
nearer,  lieutenant  colonel  Cole   was   sent  out 
with  a  party  of  three  hundred  men  to  cover  the 
retreat.     About  ten  o'clock  some  of  the  Pro- 
vincials and  Indians  appeared,  running  back  to 
the  camp  ;  and  brought  information,  that  the 
detachment  was  attacked  on  all  sides,  and  'vas 
retreating  :  In  a  short  time  the  whole  party  thrt 
escaped,  returned  in  large  bodies  to  the  camp. 
Colonel  Williams  was  slain  in  the  action  ;  the 
go:  imand  had  devolved  on  lieutenant  col. Whit- 
ing, a  Connecticut  officer,  who  had   acquired 
much  reputation  at  the  reduction  of  Louisburgh 
in  the  former  war  ;  and  conducted  with  much 
bravery  and  prudence  on  the  present  occasion. 
Johnson  manned  his  breast  work,. and  made 


I 


,  I 


i  ^ 


■  I  li, 


;f^i 


.  !'      I 


P) 


kill 


i:.-(l. 


i  \. 


i 


I  •   I, 


'.  i  I 


'   .( 


I- A  . 


,f  - 


•m: 


i  -. 


Mi,; 


J.I-   '' 

ItT      it 


'  :  i 

i  ^  t 

■    ■  i  ,' 

,  I  1 


I    ' 


(  ' 


'■| 


1       * 


564        NATURAL    AND    CiViL 

the  best  preparation  for  the  reception  of  the  ca  • 
emy,  tliat  tinie  and  circunibtanccs  would  permit. 
At  half  after  eleven,  the  enemy  were  seen  to 
aj^proach.  Their  army  was  drawn  up,  and 
rnarched  alon^r  the  road,  in  a  very  regular  man- 
ner ;  aiming  directly  at  tlje  center  of  the  en- 
campmeiit.  Wlien  they  had  approached  within 
one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  the  breast  work, 
they  made  a  halt  for  a  short  time  ;  their  regii- 
lar  troops  preparing  for  the  grand  or  center  at- 
tack, and  the  Canadians  and  Indians  filing  off  to 
the  Hanks.  The  regular  troops  began  the;  en- 
gagoment  with  platoon  firings,  which  on  ac- 
count of  the  distance,  and  breast  work,  had  little 
or  no  effect.  The  artillery  immediately  began 
to  play  upon  the  enemy  ;  to  avoid  which,  their 
militia  and  Indians  betook  themselves  to  the 
trees  and  awamps,  and  kept  up  an  irregular  fire 
upon  the  flanks,  fhe  engagement  was  now 
become  general  with  both  armies,  but  it  was 
ivithout  much  impet^iosity  on  eitlier  side.  The 
regular  troops  in  thcFrench  army  preserved  their 
ground  and  order,  for  some  time,  with  much 
steadiness  and  resolution  ;  but  found  themselves 
abandoned  bv  the  Canadians  and  Indians,  and 
suffered  severely  by  the  warm  and  constant  fire 
from  tlie  breast  work.  Unable  to  make  an  im- 
pression en  the  center,  they  moved  to  the  right, 
iv?A  attacked  the  regiments  of  colonel  Ruggies, 
\V,Mliams,and  Titeomb.  These  regiments  re- 
ceived the  attiick  with  firmness,  and  kept  up  a 
tonstant  and  woll  directed  fire  upon  llie  enemy* 
Tiiir,  attempt  upon  the  right,  continued  about 
hn  hour,  without  the  appearance  of  succesSi 
i>ieskau  now  found  th:;t  he  could  not'niiike  any 


i:    '"    '    i 


HISTORY  O'^  VERMONT.        36S 


impression  on  Johnson's  army,  with  his  small 
body  of  regulars  ;  and  that  the  fire,  from  every 
part  of  his  army,  was  become  weak,  and  de- 
creasing. To  save  the  remainder  of  his  troops 
he  attempted  to  retreat,  but  it  was  in  much  con- 
fusion  and  disorder.  Upon  this  manoeuvre,  a 
party  from  the  English  camp  jumped  over  the 
breast  work,  fell  upon  his  rear,  and  dispersed  the 
isoldiers  that  were  about  him.  Being  wounded 
in  the  leg,  Dieskau  could  not  travel  himself  ; 
and  was  found  by  the  party  from  the  breast  work> 
resting  on  the  stump  of  a  tree,  abandoned  by 
his  men,  destitute  of  any  assistance,  and  unable 
to  walk.  A  provincial  soldier  approaching  him> 
the  baron  was  feeling  for  his  watch  to  present 
to  him*  The  soldier  believing  he  was  in  search 
of  a  pocket  pistol,  discharged  his  musket  and 
gave  him  a  dangerous  wound  in  his  hips. 

Upon  their  retreat,  the  enemy  halted  about 
four  miles  from  the  provincial  camp,  at  the 
place  where  the  engagement  began  in  the  mor- 
ning with  colonel  Williams.  A  party  consist- 
ing of  two  hundred  men  had  been  detached 
from  fort  Edward,  to  assist  the  main  body  of 
the  army  under  Johnson.  This  party  was  com- 
manded by  captain  M'Ginnes  from  New  Hamp- 
shire, a  brave  and  active  officer.  He  fell  upon 
the  enemy,  with  an  impetuosity  and  spirit,  that 
soon  put  an  end  to  their  order  and  consultations. 
They  kept  up  their  resistance  for  nearly  two 
hours,  but  in  the  event  dispersed  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  party  tinder  M'Ginnes  lost  but  twelve 
of  their  men.  Their  brave  but  unfortunate 
commander  arrived  the  same  day  at  Johnson's 
camp,  but  died  in  a  few  days  of  the  wounds 
which  he  had  received  in  the  battle. 

VOL.  I         W  2 


ij.'' 


1  I     ';, 


I'     i 


"li 


■I    -i 


-ill 


•■<!n!' 


■    M  rj(.'  :    1         . 


1'm^i 


•t 


If 


!  I 


l:i 


<     .   1 


.!    ! 


r' 


'I  ' 


\'s 


I ' 


i 


I 


36G 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


In  these  engagements,  the  greatest  loss  of 
the  provincial  troops,  fell  upon  the  detachment 
sent  out  in  the  morning.  Colonel  Williams, 
major  Ashley,  captains  IngcrsoU,  Porter,  Farrel, 
Stoddard,  Stevens,  M'Ginnes,  with  about  one 
hundred  and  thirty  men  were  slain.  About 
sixty  were  wounded,  among  whom  was  general 
Jolinsoii.  The  Indians  estimated  their  loss  at 
forty  men  ;  among  these  was  Hendrick,  the  old 
Mohawk  sachem.  In  the  French  army,  the  loss 
was  said  to  amount  to  six  or  seven  hundred. 
Among  the  slain  were  several  officers  of  dis- 
tinction, with  M.  St.  Pierre,  a  major  general 
and  commander  of  the  Indians  ;  but  few  pris- 
oners, not  more  than  thirty  were  taken. 

Th  e  conduct  of  M.  Dieskau  in  this  cxpedi- 
.  lion,  cannot  be  viewed  as  the  result  of  much 
discretion,  or  of  good  intelligence.  The  garri- 
son  at  Fort  Edward,  at  that  time,  did  not  a- 
mount  to  more  than  five  hundred  men,  under 
the  command  of  colonel  Blanchardof  Newhamp- 
shire.  The. works  were  unfinished,  and  capa- 
ble  of  but  little  defence.  Against  this  place 
Dieskau  might  probably  have  succeeded.  But 
to  attempt  to  destroy  the  provincial  army  at  the 
lake,  which  was  four  thousand  strong,  with  a 
very  inferior  force,  bore  the  appearance  of  rash- 
ness rather  than  bra\ery.  By  the  officers  of  the 
most  experience  in  the  provincial  army,  it  was 
said,  his  most  capital  mistake  was  in  making 
a  halt  when  he  arrived  at  the  provincial  camp  : 
That  such  was  the  hurry  consternation,  and 
want  of  intelligence  in  their  camp,  that  if  the 
enemy  had  marched  immediately  to  their  breast 
work,  as  their  defeated  and  affi-ighted  troops  re- 


;l^i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


367 


turned,  it  was  not  improbable  they  might  have 
increased  the  confusion  and  consternation,  till 
it  issued  in  a  dispersion  of  their  trooj^s.  By 
making  a  halt,  and  firing  in  platoons  at  a  dis- 
tance  in  which  it  could  have  no  cftVct,  the  pro- 
vincials acquired  experience,  found  the  enemy's 
fire  to  be  harmless,  that  their  own  was  much  bet- 
ter directed,  and  did  the  most  execution.  It  was 
also  a  great  misfortune  to  the  French  army,  that 
their  general  continued  the  attack,  long  after  it 
was  found  to  be  unsuccessful,  and  unavailing. 

A  VICTORY  at  that  time  was  so  unusual  in 
America,  that  not  to  have  lost  a  battle  passed 
for  an  act  of  much  merit  and  heroism  ;  and 
Johnson  was  much  commended  that  he  had  not 
been  defeated.  His  conduct  however  did  not 
pass  without  some  severe  remarks  and  censure. 
It  was  said  there  was  no  generalship  in  the  man- 
agement of  any  part  of  the  business  ;  that  an 
army  of  four  thousand  men,  with  artillery,  and 
a  breast  work,  could  not  be  in  any  danger  from 
such  an  enemy  ;  and  ought  to  have  destroyed 
their  whole  army.  But  most  of  all  was  he 
censured  for  not  sending  outa  detachmentinpur- 
suit  of  a  defeated,  retreating  army  ;  this  was 
warmly  urged  by  general  Lyman,  but  was  oppo- 
sed by  general  Johnson,  and  most  of  his  field 
officers.  Instead  of  making  any  attempt  to  pur- 
sue the  enemy  or  to  move  ibrward  to  Ticonde- 
roga,  the  day  after  the  battle  Johnson  wrote  to 
the  governors  of  the  colonies  for  a  reinforce- 
ment ;  informed  them  that  he  expected  another 
attack,  and  that  the  enemy  would  come  on  with 
their  artillery  ;  that  he  should  order  the  troops 
at  fort  Edward,  to  rcmforce  him  ;    and  that  as 


.11 


1 1 


.  I    !;, 


1  ,li 


j 

,  1. 

1 

1 

'  ■    i 


I-.  ' 


m 


i,:^. 


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'■I 


•J    '■ 


y 


'I 


y\  'i 


i  f 


ij: 


1  I 


, h  t  .' 


i? 

i 

0 

r 

f     h 

{     I 


i     I 


1 


1 


i    ^n 


36»        NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

soon  as  the  fresh  troops  should  come  on,  he 
should  immediately  set  about  building  a  fort. 
How  far  the  intelligence  which  Johnson  had, 
might  justify  this  extreme  caution,  we  cannot 
now  determine.  The  event  was,  that  instead 
of  risking  any  thing  against  the  enemy,  he  spent 
the  remainder  of  the  campaign  in  building  a 
fort  at  the  south  end  of  lake  George,  which  has 
since  been  called  fort  William  Henry.* 

Thus  terminated  the  American  campaigns 
in  the  year  1755.  The  plans  had  been  chiefly 
formed  by  governor  Shirley  ;  an  able  and  judi- 
cious statesman^  well  acquainted  with  American 
affairs,  and  deeply  engaged  in  the  interest  of  the 
colonies.  They  appeared  to  have  been  so  well 
concerted,  that  they  were  approved  and  con- 
firmed by  general  Braddock,  and  the  council 
which  he  assembled  at  Alexandria.  One  only 
had  succeeded  :  That  at  Nova  Scotia,  though 
ostensibly  under  the  command  of  Monckton, 
had  been  principally  conducted  by  colonel 
Winslow  J  and  had  fully  effected  the  puqiose 
of  subduing  the  French  in  that  province,  and 
preserving  it  to  the  British  dominions.  The 
expedition  under  Braddock  was  conducted  with 
extreme  imprudence  and  rashness,  and  had  ter- 
minated in  destruction  and  disgrace,,  The  Nia- 
gara expedition  under  Shirley,  was  too  exten- 
sive in  its  plan  and  object,  to  be  compleated  in 
one  campaign.  At  the  northward,  the  baron 
pieskau  had  giv^n  Johnson  an  opportunity  to 
obtain  a  victory,  without  *  leaving  his  camp,  or 
f  xposing  himself  to  any  danger.      BraddocH 

•  Johncom'*  Letter  of  September  9,  1755. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT        36» 


«;  ,' 


was  slain,  Shirley  had  lost  much  of  his  popu^ 
larity,  Johnson  was  celebrated  by  some  and 
censured  by  others,  while  Winslow  was  every 
where  commended  and  applauded. 

The  campaigns  bein;^' closed,  general  Shir- 
ley convened  a  grand  uouncil  of  war  at  New 
York,  to  settle  the  plan  of  operations  for  the 
next  year.  This  council  was  opened  on  the 
twelfth  of  December,  and  continued  its  session 
that  day  and  the  next.  The  invitation  to  the 
governors  of  the  colonics  was  universal  ;  but 
the  council  was  attended  only  by  the  following 
members  ;  the  governors  of  Massachusetts, 
Connecticut,  New  York,  Pennsylvania  and 
Maryland  ;  colonels  Dunbar  and  Schuyler, 
majors  Craven  and  Rutherford,  and  the  deputy 
quarter  master  general.  Shirley  laid  before  the 
council,  the  king's  instructions  to  general  Brad* 
dock  ;  and  proposed  as  a  plan  of  operations  for 
the  next  year,  that  expeditions  should  be  car- 
ried on  against  fort  Du  Quesne,  Niagara,  and 
Crown  Point ;  and  that  a  body  of  troops  should 
be  sent  by  vay  of  the  rivers  Kennebec  and 
Chaudiere,  to  keep  up  an  alarm  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Quebec,  and  the  eastern  parts  of 
Canada.  Shirley's  plan  was  adopted  with  great 
unanimity  of  sentiment,  and  the  council  dissol- 
ved in  perfect  harmony,  after  a  session  of  two 
days.  The  governors  returned  to  their  respec- 
tive provinces,  but  Shirley  tarried  at  New  York, 
in  hopes  to  prosecute  an  expedition  against  Ti- 
conderoga  in  the  winter,  which  the  season  how- 
ever did  not  permit. 

1756.     The  plan  of  operations  concerted  at 
New  York,  in  a  few  days  after,  was  transmitted 


i..: 

■*■,' 

■ 

1    '/ 

1  ■ 

1^ 

1 

i    '     r 

i 
1    . 

i!l 


■ii;    j,;    i 

'fi:"    ! 


:  c 


■77" 


i\ 


I  : 


I  \  I 


1  n 


I ' 


il 


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u  ■ . 


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ii'  \  i 


'IH 


: 


t  ■- 


i     M.i 


;■'    1  I 


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;l  I'M, 

1 

'  |„i: 


V 


I        I' 


M  I' 


I    s 


In     f  ! 


!  ;'i 
1  , 1 


m 


c 


370       NATURAL    AND    CIVIL 

to  the  British  minister,  to  be  laid  before  tile 
king,  for  his  approbation.  This  business  being 
adjusted,  on  January  the  twenty  first,  Shirley  set 
out  for  Boston,  to  meet  the  assembly  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  propose  to  them  the  raising  of 
their  quota  of  the  troops.  The  assembly  was 
disgusted  with  the  proceedings  of  the  last  cam- 
paign, especially  at  general  Johnson's  neglecting 
to  pursue  his  advantages  after  the  defeat  of 
Dieskau.  It  was  with  difficulty  they  were  per- 
suaded  to  concur  in  another  fexpensive  expedi- 
tion ;  nbr  would  they  engage  in  offens-ve  oper- 
ations  at  the  lake,  till  it  was  understood  that 
Winslow  was  to  have  the  command  of  the 
troops  designed  against  Crown  Point.  The 
governor's  influence  however  prevailed,  and  the 
assembly  concurred  in  all  the  military  measures 
which  he  proposed. 

In  April,  news  arrived  from  Great  Britain^ 
that  the  events  of  the  last  year  were  viewed  in 
a  very  different  light  there,  from  what  they  were 
in  America  :  That  the  affair  at  lake  George  was 
considered  by  the  British  ministry,  as  a  very 
important  victory ;  and  Johnson's  conduct  as 
highly  deserving  and  meritorious :  Tmt  he  was 
honoured  with  the  dignity  of  a  Baronet  ;  and 
that  five  thousand  pounds  sterling  had  been  vo- 
ted  to  him  by  the  house  of  commons  as  a  fur- 
ther reward  for  his  services  :  That  his  (engineer 
was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  a  major  in  the  Bri- 
tish service,  and  his  secretary  to  the  command 
of  a  company.  It  was  also  said  that  general 
Shirley's  conduct  had  been  entirely  disapproved 
by  his  majesty,  that  he  was  removed  from  the 
command  of  the  troops ;  and  that  the  earl  of 


',  I,  II 


JlM'ii  ] 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        ^71 


London  was  appointed  general  and  commander 
in  chief  of  all  the  forces  in  North  America  : 
And  that  the  favorite  object  with  the  British 
ministry,  was  the  reduction  of  Crown  Point. 
At  this  time,  general  Shirley  had  not  receiv- 
ed the  king's  orders,  with  respect  to  the  late 
plan  of  operations  ;  but  was  much  engaged  in 
carrying  it  into  effect.  On  these  venth  of  May, 
he  arrived  at  Albany,  and  immediately  began 
his  preparations  for  the  campaign.  On  the 
twenty  fifth,  he  held  a  council  of  war,  consisting 
of  lieutenant  colonel  Gage  and  Burton,  majors 
Chapman  and  Sparks,  Sir  John  St.  Clair,  and 
Montresor,  the  chief  engineer.  With  regard  lo 
the  Niagara  expedition,  he  informed  the  council 
that  upon  lake  Ontario,  there  was  a  naval  force 
of  two  vessels  of  ten  carriage  guns  each  ;  t^('o 
row-gallies  of  ten  swivels  each  ;  and  that  he  had 
issued  orders  for  building  three  other  vessels, 
one  of  eighteen,  one  of  sixteen,  and  one  of 
twelve  carriage  guns.  Besides  which,  there 
would  be  on  that  lake,  two  hundred  and  fifty 
whale  boats,  each  capable  of  carrying  sixteen 
men.  With  respect  to  the  expedition  against 
Crown  Point,  the  council  were  told,  that  the 
several  colonies  had  voted  to  raise  eight  thou- 
sand and  eight  hundred  men,  including  those 
which  were  in  garrison  at  the  forts  Edward  and 
William  Henry,  a  he  council  were  of  opinion 
that  thirteen  hundred  fnen  ought  to  be  posted  at 
Oswego,  and  four  hundred  at  the  different  posts 
between  that  place  and  Schenectady.  That 
two  British  regiments,  with  the  colony  troops, 
vvould  be  sufficient  for  the  redaction  of  Crown 
Point  ;  and  that  a  fort  ought  immediately  to  be 


i: 


!   . 


•J( 


\>]\r 


I    ,        ]]': 


(  'fill' 

?    'Ml 


1,1' 


I,  I'    »  ,-■■   !. 


fill  ■■ 


ij     ■-    ': 


! 


r   f 

1-   J  '> 


I  •' 


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fi  ■  \ 


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-•Q  ■■«  «■  jQX'iii  I  ■  JmSTJi^^^^^ 


a 


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I  > 


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Mr   i 


'II 


'!        I 


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Vi 


I 


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l,M 


I  i  .11 


I'if 


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\ll 


If  I  il  1 


^rs 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


built  at  South  Bay,  the  place  where  Dieskau 
hud  landed  his  troops. 

Having  formed  the  military  plans  and  put 
all  the  northern  colonies  in  motion  to  execute 
them,  Shirley  was  deeply  engaged  in  the  busi- 
ness till  the  arrival  of  major  general  Webb,  on 
June  the  seventh.  It  was  now  certain  that  gen- 
eral Shirley  was  superseded  in  the  command. 
On  June  the  fifteenth,  major  general  Abercrom- 
bie  landed  at  New  York,  and  in  ten  days  re- 
paired to  Albany,  and  took  upon  himself  the 
command  of  the  army.  Shirley  immediately 
delivered  to  him  the  returns  of  the  army  and 
stores  ;  and  gave  him  the  necessary  information 
respecting  the  plans  of  the  campaign,  the  state 
of  the  American  colonies  and  troops,  and  the 
situation  of  their  forts  and  public  affairs  ;  and 
continued  no  longer  at  Albany  than  was  neces- 
sary to  compleat  this  business*  General  Aber- 
crombie  was  of  a  family  much  distinguished  in 
Scotland  ;  had  risen  in  the  army  by  a  regular 
course  of  service,  and  acted  with  reputation  un- 
der the  duke  of  Cumberland,  in  subduing  the 
rebellion  in  the  year  forty  six.  He  was  now 
advanced  in  age,  and  but  little  acquainted  with 
the  aftairs  of  the  American  colonies.  When  he 
took  the  command  of  the  troops,  they  consisted 
of  two  regiments  which  had  served  under  Brad- 
dock,  two  battalions  raised  in  America,  two 
British  regiments  which  he  brought  over  with 
him,  four  independent  companies  which  hod 
been  for  many  years  maintained  in  New  York, 
four  companies  raised  by  the  province  of  North 
Carolina,  and  the  large  body  of  provincial  troops 
which  had  been  raised  for  the  expedition  against 
Crown  Point. 


1  J 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       37* 


t , 


An  important  part  of  the  service  respecting 
the  western  campaign,  was  the  direction  of  the 
batteaux  ;  by  these,  the  troops,  provisions  and 
military   stores   were  to   be   transported   from 
Schenectady  to  Oswego.     Shirley,  fully  appre- 
hensive of  the  importance  of  this  service  from 
the   sufferings  of  the  former  year,  had  enlisted 
forty  companies  of  fifty  men  each  for  this  busi- 
ness.      Colonel   Broadstreet,  an  active,   judi- 
cious officer,  well  acquainted  with  the  nature  of 
the  business,  had  been  appointed  to  thie  com» 
mand.     In  returning  from  Oswego  with  three 
hundred  of  his  men,  as  he  was  stemming  the 
stream  of  the  Onondago  river,  with  his  batteaux 
formed  into  three  divisions,  on  July  the  third, 
the  Indian  war-whoop  resounded  from  the  north 
shore,  and  he  was  attacked  in  an  instant  by  a 
general  discharge  of  rausquetry.     With  perfect 
coolness,  Broadstreet  landed  his  men  on  the  other 
bank,  took  possession  of  an  island  from  which 
he  could  annoy  the  enemy,  followed  them  to 
every  place   where  they  had  pasfSed  the  river, 
and  fell  upon  them  sword  in  hand  wherever  he 
could  find  them  in  any  numbers.     Several  ac- 
tions took  place  along  the  banks  and  islands  of 
the  river  ;  the  engagement  continued  for  three 
hours,  and  in  the  event,  the  enemy  were  every 
where  repulsed  and  dispersed.     In  this  contest 
the  force  of  the  enemy  amounted  to  seven  hun- 
dred men.     Thirty  of  the  batteaux  men  were 
killed,   and  as  many  wounded.     The  French 
and  Indians  lost  one  hundred  and  twenty,  and 
^bout  seventy  of  them  were  made  prisoners. 

On  tlie  eleventh  of  July,  Broadstreet  arrived 
at  Schenectady.     The  next  day  he  repaired  t^ 

VOL.  I.       'X  2 


li:: 


Mi,:. 


4! 


I'  I 


.      'hi  !ll? 


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!';  y 


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I'  R: 


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i> 


:v 


374 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Albany,  to  lay  before  general  Abercrombic,  the 
intelligence   he   had   obtained,   of  the   danger 
which  threatened  Oswego.     The  prisoners  ha 
had  taken  in  his  late  actions,  informed  him  that 
twelve  hundred  of  the  enemy  were  encamped 
on  lake  Ontario,  at  but  a  little  distance  from  the 
English  forts  ;  that  they  were  provided  with 
artillery,  and  all  other  implements  necessary  for 
a  siege  ;  and  that  they  meant  to  commence  their 
operations,  as  soon  as  some  expected  reinforce- 
ments should  arrive.     Upon  this    intelligence 
orders  were  issued  to  general   Webb,  to  hold 
himself  in  readiness  to  march  for  the  defence  of 
Oswego,  with  the  forty  fourth  British  regiment. 
While  the  British  generals  were  thus  specula- 
ting about  Oswego,  Lord  Loudon  who  had  been 
appointed  to  the  chief  command  in  North  A- 
merica,  arrived  at  New  York,  July  the  twenty 
third,  and  reached  his  head  quarters  at  Albany, 
the  twenty  ninth  ;  and  immediately  took  upon 
himself  the  command  of  the  troops.     Amidst 
tlie  parade  and  ceremonies  attending  the  arrival 
and  reception  of  the  British  generals,  the  affairs 
of  the  war  were  not  attended  to  ;  and  it  was  not 
till  the  tvvelfth  of  August  that   Webb  set  out 
with  his  regiment  from  Albany  for  the  preser- 
vation of  Oswego.     He  had  proceeded  on  his 
journey  but  a  few  days,  when  he  received  news 
that  Oswego  was  actually  besieged  by  a  large 
army  of  French  and  Indians.     Alarmed  for  hib 
own  safety,  he  made  a  forced  march  to  the 
Oneida  carrying  place  ;  when  he  immediately 
began  to  throw  up  works  for  his  own  defence, 
and  to  fall  the  trees  in  Wood  Creek,  to  prevent 
the  enemy  from  approaching  his  own  camp. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        375 

While  the  British  generals  in  America  were 
thus  spending  their  time   to  no  purpose,   M. 
Montcalm,  the  commandtr  of  the  troops  in  Ca- 
nada, was  deeply   engaged  in  a  scheme   of  the 
highest   importance   to   the   French    interest  ; 
that  of  securing  to  themselves   the  extensive 
dominion   of  the    Great   Lakes,    which    they 
well  knew  would  command  the  interest  and  in- 
fluence of  all  the  Indian  nations.     As   the   first 
step  to  effect  these  measures,  he  set  forward  an 
expedition  against  Oswego,   while   the   British 
generals  were  looking  for  him  at  Tyconderoga. 
He  assembled  a  body  of  troops,   consisting   of 
thirteen  hundred   regulars,    seventeen  hundred 
Canadians,  and  a  considerable  number  of  Indi- 
ans.    With  this  force  he  proceeded   from  fort 
Frontenac,  by  the  way  of  lake  Ontario.     The 
first  step  taken  by  Montcalm,  was  to  block   up 
Oswego  by  water,  by  two  large  armed  vessels  ; 
the  Mcxt,  was  to  post  a  strong  body  of  Canadi- 
ans and  Indians  on  the   road   between   Albany 
and  the  forts,  to  cut  off  all   communications   of 
succour  and  intelligence.     Having   brought  up 
his  artillery  and  stores,  he  had  every  thing   in 
readiness  to  open  his  trenches  before  fort  Onta- 
rio, by  the  twelfth  of  August.     The  forts  were 
in  no  condition  to  make  a  defence  against  artil- 
lery or  regular  approaches.     On  the  thirteenth, 
colonel  Mercer  was  killed  by   a  cannon  ball  ; 
and  the  next  day  the  garrison  proposed  a  capit- 
ulation.    The  terms  v;ere,  that  they  should  sur- 
render prisoners  of  war,  be  exempted  from  plun- 
der, treated  with  humanity,  and   be   conducted 
to  Monti'eal.     Unfortunately  for  several  of  the 
prisoners,  and  for  the   honor  of  Montcalm,   the 
terms  of  the  capitulati9n  were  not  fulfilled  by 


(1 


(I   ■•  list 


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S76 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


him.  Several  of  the  British  officers,  and  sol- 
diers were  insulted,  robbed,  and  massacred  by 
the  Indians.  Most  of  the  sick  were  barbarous- 
ly scalped  in  the  hospital  ;  and  to  compleat  the 
scene  of  falshood  and  barbarity,  the  French 
general  delivered  up  to  the  Indians  above  twen- 
ty of  the  garrison,  in  the  room  of  the  same 
number  that  they  had  lost  during  the  siege.  In 
all  probability  these  unhappy  victims  were  put 
to  death,  according  to  the  execrable  Indian  cus- 
tom of  torturing  and  burning.  Having  suc- 
ceeded in  the  enterprise  with  scarcely  any  loss, 
Montcalm  demolished  the  two  forts  at  Oswego, 
and  returned  with  his  army  to  fort  Frontenac. 
In  this  expedition  he  had  taken  fourteen  hun- 
dred prisoners,  one  hundred  and  twenty  pieces 
of  artillery,  fourteen  mortars,  with  a  large  quan- 
tity of  ammunition,  warlike  stores,  and  -provi- 
sions ;  two  sloops,  and  two  hundred  batteaux. 
While  these  scenes,  disgraceful  to  the  En- 
glish,  were  taking  place  at  Oswego,  and  the 
French  every  where  conducting  their  affairs 
with  wisdom  and  energy,  the  British  generals 
at  Albany  appeared  to  be  either  wholly  unac- 
quainted with  the  business,  or  disinclined  to  the 
dangers  and  hardships  of  an  American,  French 
and  Indian  war.  The  force  in  the  vicinity 
of  Albany,  under  the  command  of  the  earl  of 
Loudon,  amounted  to  two  thousand  and  six 
hundred  regular  troops,  and  eight  thousand  pro- 
vincials, well  clothed,  fed  and  armed  ;  and  pro- 
vided with  the  necessary  artillery  and  imple- 
ments of  war.  General  Winslow  lor  several 
months  had  been  at  lake  George,  with  an  army 
of  seven  thousand  provincial  troops,  well  equip- 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        37T 

ped,  and  ready  to  proceed  from  fort  William 
Henry.  From  the  best  accounts,  the  force  of 
the  French  at  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point, 
did  not  exceed  three  thousand  men  ;  and  with 
this  force,  they  did  not  appear  to  be  in  any  de- 
gree apprehensive  of  any  danger  from  the  Eng- 
lish. Nor  had  they  any  thing  to  fear  from  tlie 
British  generals,  forces,  or  exertions  ;  for  noth- 
ing was  attempted  or  efiected.  Loudon  neither 
made  any  attempts,  nor  gave  any  orders  to  his 
treops  to  move  forward,  or  molest  the  enemy 
on  lake  Champlain.  Loudon  had  Ins  head  quar- 
ters at  Albany,  Winslow  lay  with  the  provincial 
army  at  lake  George,  the  season  passed  away, 
and  all  that  was  attempted  or  performed  was  to 
strengthen  the  forts  Edward  and  William  Hen- 
ry, which  Lyman  and  Johnson  had  built  the 
year  before, 

A  party,  in  some  of  the  colonics,  had  been 
extremely  active  in  censuring  the  measures  of 
general  Shirley,  and  in  effecting  his  removal 
from  the  command.  They  had  already  discov- 
ered that  he  was  much  better  acquainted  Vv  itii 
American  affairs,  more  judicious  in  his  plans, 
and  more  active  in  executing  them,  than  the 
British  generals  who  had  succeeded  him.  If 
Shirley  had  attempted  too  much,  they  had  at- 
tempted nothing  ;  and  if  Braddock  had  lost  his 
life  and  army  by  his  rashness  and  confidence, 
Loudon  and  his  officers  had  neither  ventured, 
effected,  or  lost  any  thing  ;  And  it  was  already 
apparent,  either  that  they  were  altogether  unac- 
quainted with  the  nature  of  that  kind  of  war, 
which  must  be  pursued  on  the  American  fron- 
tiers ;  or  else  they  were  disinclined  to  venture 


Vi'i     V. 


ij::^ 


I  I , 


I  ; 


KU\ 


■  t 


;,'  : 


.     { 


i  ■ 


ill 


'^  jl 


'•I. 


!      ! 


)i     h 


37ft         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

amidst  the  fatigues,  dangers,  and  surprises,  to 
which  it  was  unavoidably  exposed/  But  what- 
ever  was  the  cause,  it  was  every  where  known 
that  the  whole  body  of  British  and  provincial 
troops,  through  the  whole  of  this  campaign,  had 
been  employed  to  no  manner  of  purpose.  Dis- 
appointment and  disgrace  had  attended  every 
British  measure  ;  it  Was  the  French,  with  M. 
Montcalm,  their  general,  that  had  acted  witk 
Yi|j;or  and  success^ 


.:U 


*   *i 


li'.i 


:     h' 


i!>li:rT/i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


CHAPTER    XH. 


37§ 


War.  Progress  and  events  of  the  war  in  the 
years  1757  and  VI b^.  Loudon* s  preparations 
for  the  campaign.  Montcalnis  measures  with 
the  Indians,  DesigrTs  upon  the  English,  Put" 
nam's  account  of  'J  tWs  proceedings.  Con" 
quest  of  Fort  fVilUam  Henry.  Savage  maS' 
sacre  of  the  prisoners.  Refections  on  Montm 
calni's  conduct.  Result  of  the  campaign  in 
1757,  Change  of  the  British  councils  and 
ministry.  Conquest  of  Loinsbourg,  Aber- 
crombie^s  attempt  and  defeat  at  Ticonderoga, 
Capture  of  Fort  Frontenac  by  Broadstreet.,,, 
Of  Fort  I)u  Quesne  by  Forties,  Amherst  <w- 
sumes  the  command, 

1757  THE  Earl  of  Loudon  had  been 
an  officer  of  much  reputation  in  Scotland.  In 
the  rebellion  in  that  country,  in  the  year  one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  forty  five,  he  com- 
nianded  a  regiment  of  Highlanders  at  Inverness  ; 
was  very  useful  in  directing  tlic  councils  and 
conduct  of  the  clans,  who  had  taken  arms  in 
behalf  of  the  king;  vigilant  and  successful  in 
restraining  and  intimidating  the  disaffected 
chiefs,  who  had  not  openly  joined  in  the  rebel- 
lion ;  loyal,  active,  and  persevering,  he  had  ren- 
dered very  useful  services  to  his  majesty,  in  the 
high  lands  of  North  Britain.  From  such  ser- 
vices and  experience,  it  was  supposed  that  he 
was  well  qualified  to  have  the  direction  of  the 
war  in  North  America. 
.  Having  assumed  the  command  of  all  tkt 


•  I 


'/>'•' 


U.i! 


r 


}._  ■  I 


1'  ^''^ii 


i 


,  I 


^  :  '  if!  ; 

\'  it    if 


\\ ' 


Hi'  ;■' 


,    f"^"'*"" 


't 


'  i 


I  i 


il; 


.1 


I 


I 


1 


h 


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1 
{I 


..i 


SiBO       NATITRAL   AND    CIViL 

forces  in  North  America,  he  was  employed  dur- 
hiii;  tlic  winter  in  effecting  his  purposes  with  the 
American  governments,  to  raise  a  large  body 
of  troops  for  the  ensuing  campaign.  His  Lord- 
ship had  not  the  full  confidence  of  the  Ameri- 
can assemblies  ;  but  such  was  their  conviction 
of  the  necessity  of  more  vigorous  measures  in 
carr}'ing  on  the  war,  that  they  every  where 
raised  the  number  of  troops  which  were  requir- 
ed of  them,  and  made  all  the  preparations  which 
were  expected  :  But  as  the  British  general  had 
taken  the  direction  of  all  the  proposed  expedi- 
tions under  his  own  management,  neither  the 
American  governors  or  assemblies,  were  em- 
ployed in  forming  plans,  or  concerting  meas- 
ures for  their  own  defence,  or  to  annoy  the  cne- 
Jiiy.  The  time  was  now  come,  when  it  was 
thought  by  the  British  ministry  that  it  was  not 
best  for  their  colonics  to  learn  their  own  strength, 
or  to  depend  upon  their  own  councils  ;  but  to 
look  to  British  officers  and  troops  for  the  one, 
and  to  the  British  ministry  for  the  other. 

From  the  first  commencement  of  liostilities, 
the  reduction  of  Crown  Point  had  been  the  fa- 
vorite object  with  the  colonies,  and  with  the 
crown.  It  was  determined  in  the  British  coun- 
cils of  this  year,  to  vary  and  extend  their  opera- 
tions ;  not  to  carry  their  expeditions  against 
Grown  Point,  but  to  make  a  vigorous  attempt 
against  Lonisbourg;  In  pursuance  of  this  plan, 
Admiral  Holbourn  arrived  at  Halifax,  on  July 
t4ie  ninth,  with  fifteen  ships  of  the  line,  and  a 
large  number  of  transports.  Lord  Loudon  had 
collected  a  body  of  six  thousand  troops,  and 
embarked  from  New  York,  to  take  the  command 


*         1!      i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        381 


y  r 


•f  ihe  army  dcsi^K  d  for  Louishnur^.  Wlicn 
he  arrived  with  his  tnjops  at  Hahfax,  he  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  twelve  thousi'iid  men; 
well  ollicercd,  disciphmd,  and  provided  with 
every  thinj^  nccessajy  for  tin  <*xpedition.  While 
the  army  lay  at  Halitax,  preparing  to  embark, 
intelligence  was  received  that  M.  de  la  Aiothc 
had  sailed  from  Brest,  in  the  month  of  May, 
and  was  arrived  safe  at  Loiiisbourg,  with  a  larjiije 
fleet  of  ships  of  war,  and  transports.  'I'hc  in- 
telligence was  soon  confirmed,  with  more  par- 
ticular information  ;  that  there  were  seventeen 
ships  of  the  line  and  three  frigates  moored  in 
the  harbor  ;  a  land  army  of  six  thousand  regu- 
lar troo])s,  three  thousand  natives,  and  thirteen 
hundred  Indians  ;  that  the  place  was  well  sup- 
plied with  ammunition,  provisions,  and  every 
kind  of  military  stores  ;  and  that  the  enc  my 
were  expecting  and  desirous  of  a  visit  from  the 
English  fleet  and  army.  This  intelligence  put 
an  end  to  Loudon's  deliberations.  No  attempt 
was  made  to  proceed  in  the  expedition,  it  vvas 
foreseen  that  the  consequence  of  a  defeat  would 
have  been  greatly  injurious  to  the  British  aftliirs 
in  America.  And  neither  their  admirals  or 
generals  had  as  yet  acquired  tliat  determined 
resolution  and  perseverance,  which  were  neces- 
sary to  give  success  to  the  American  contest. 

But  whatever  was  the  case  with  the  Briiish 
commanders,  the  French  generals  perfectly  well 
understood  tbeir  business.  Montcalm,  who 
had  the  command  of  the  troops  in  Canada,  was 
an  able  and  experienced  officer.  He  had  serveil 
with  much  reputation  in  the  French  armies  in 
Italy  and  Bohemia,  and  bad  met  with  mv^h 

JOL.  I.        Y  2 


1,1 


• 


,y 


> ',' 


i:r  iM 


2    'I 

An 


t   ' 


ill      \a..      \   ■ 


( It- 

! 


t;:- 


•!l 


382 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


M. 


'  ,f 


^n 


i.i, 


I      l'!^i 


f     !1 


1    ii 


success  ill  America.  The  conquest  of  Oswego 
had  raised  his  fame  among  the  Indians,  and 
given  him  the  command  of  ahnost  all  their  tribes 
and  commerce.  He  pursued  the  advantages  he 
had  obtained  with  much  discretion  and  address. 
The  English  had  destroyed  their  forts  at  the 
great  carrying  place,  and  in  other  parts  of  the 
Indian  country,  to  prevent  their  itilling  into  the 
hands  of  the  French  ;  and  the  whole  country  of 
the  six  nations  was  abandoned  to  the  enemy. 
The  French  commanders  availed  themselves  of 
all  the  errors  and  defeats  of  the  luiglish.  They 
carried  fire  and  sword  into  the  Indian  country  ; 
and  by  rewards,  promises,  and  threatenings, 
were  incessantly  endeavoring  to  draw  over  the 
six  nations  to  tlieir  interest  ;  and  they  had  the 
most  flattering  prospects  of  success.  These  na- 
tions alone,  of  all  the  Indian  tribes,  had  been 
sincere  and  faithful  in  their  attachment  to  the 
English.  The  forts,  and  communications  with 
their  tribes  were  cut  off,  dieir  country  was  a- 
bandoned  to  the  incursions  and  ravages  of  their 
enemies,  and  their  English  allies  had  met  with 
little  else  than  disappointment  and  defeat  in  all 
their  expeditions  against  the  French.  In  such 
circumstances  it  required  all  the  ability  and  ad- 
dress of  sir  William  Johnson,  to  prevent  their 
deserting  the  English  cause  and  interest. 

By  the  departure  of  lord  Loudon  from  New 
York,  the  command  of  the  British  forces  had 
devolved  on  major  general  Webb.  Montcalm 
saw  that  a  favorable  opportunity  was  presented 
to  attack  the  English  on  lake  George.  He  had 
made  an  attempt  on  the  twentieth  of  March,  to 
carry  fort  William  Henry  by  surprise  ;  but  his 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


383 


troops  had  been  defeated  by  tlie  vigilance  and 
braverj-'  of  the  garrison.  Several  of  the  enemy 
were  slain,  but  they  did  not  return  till  they  had 
burned  two  sloops,  &  one  on  the  stoeks  ;  almost 
all  the  batteaux,  three  store  h.ouscs,  all  the  huts 
of  the  rangers,  and  every  thing  that  was  not  un- 
der tlie  command  of  the  fort.  At  the  opening 
of  the  spring,  a  detachment  of  near  four  hun- 
dred men  went  down  the  lake  under  the  com- 
mand of  colonel  John  Parker,  in  batteaux  and 
whale  boats,  to  attempt  the  enemy's  advanced 
guard  at  Ticonderoga.  Parker  was  deceived  in 
his  intelligence,  decoyed  into  the  midst  of  a 
large  but  concealed  party  of  the  enemy,  and  at- 
tacked with  such  impetuosity  and  success,  that 
but  two  officers  and  seventy  privates  escaped. 
Encouraged  by  this  success,  and  the  departure 
of  lord  Loudon  to  Halifax,  and  wishing  to  re- 
trieve the  misfortune  of  the  defeat  at  fort  Wil- 
liam Henry,  Montcalm  drew  his  forces  together 
and  made  preparation  to  lay  siege  to  that  place. 
For  this  purpose  he  assembled  at  Crown  Point 
and  Ticonderoga,  a  large  body  of  regular  troops, 
Canadians,  and  Indians,  amounting  to  near  ten 
thousand  men. 

One  of  the  great  difficulties  attending  the 
American  campaigns,  was  the  article  of  intelli- 
gence ;  to  procure  information  of  the  strength 
and  movements  of  the  enemy.  The  most  that 
was  obtained,  was  generally  by  means  of  scout- 
ing and  ranging  pardes.  Some  of  the  officers 
of  the  New  Hampshire  troops,  were  nuich  dis. 
tinguished  for  their  abilities  and  exploits  in  ser- 
vices of  this  kind.  To  three  of  them,  Robert 
Rogers,  Jolm  Stark,  and  William  Stark,  ranging 


M   i '  J 

i 

i^  I  :    i 


'ih 


'1   h 


b  f,  •: 


I' 


' ,  .III  I  • 


n 


\  ! 


•1    1 


;! 


! ) 


r  i 


■I    '..I 


}i 


i 


;'•! 


i  i 


I;: ; .  '< , 


'smmmwA 


3i4 


KATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


r .  1 


!!l  I 


companies  were  assigned.  At  the  desire  of  lord 
Loudon,  thev  were  continued  in  the  service  dur- 
ing  the  winter  as  well  as  su miner.  They  were 
so  eminently  useful  in  ranging  the  woods,  pro- 
curing  intelligence,  and  skirmishing  with  the 
advanced  parties  of  the  enemy,  that  they  were 
put  in  the  pay  of  the  crown  &  after  the  war  were 
allowed  half  pay  on  the  British  establishment.! 
Among  the  officers  of  the  ranging  compa- 
nies, major  Putnam,  whose  name  became  so 
much  celebrated  in  the  American  war,  Avas  at 
that  time  much  distinguished  for  his  activity 
and  bravery.  General  Webb  had  formed  a 
high  idea  of  his  military  character  and  enter- 
prise, and  had  assigned  to  him  the  command  of 
a  party  of  two  hundred  men,  who  had  been  se- 
lected to  escort  Webb  from  fort  Edward  to 
William  Henry.  Webb  wished  to  examine  the 
state  of  the  fortifications  at  lake  George,  and  to 
procure  intelligence  of  the  strength  of  the  ene- 
my  at  Ticondtroga  and  Crown  Point.  Several 
attem[>ts  had  been  made  in  the  night  by  major 
Rogers,  who  was  then  at  the  Iiead  of  the  rang- 
ing companies,  but  they  had  not  succeeded. 
Putnam  proposed  to  proceed  in  the  day  time, 
take  with  him  but  five  men,  land  at  the  North- 
west bay,  send  back  his  boats,  and  tarry  himself 
till  he  could  discover  the  state  of  the  enemy's 
troops  and  fortifications  at  Ticonderoga.  Webb 
thought  this  would  be  too  dangerous  an  experi- 
ment, h\xi  permitted  him  to  proceed  with  eigh- 
.teen  men  in  three  whale  boats.  Putnam  set 
out  with  liis  volunteers,  but  before  he  arrived 
at  the  Northwest  bay,  he  discovered  a  body  of 

^Belknap's  Hht.  New  Hampshire,  vol.a.  p.ap;. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


385 


men  on  one  of  the  islands  in  the  lake.  Leaving 
two  of  his  boats  to  fish  at  a  distance,  that  they 
might  not  occasion  any  alarm,  he  returned  him- 
self with  the  information,  rhe  general  saw 
him  rowing  back  with  great  velocity  in  a  single 
boat,  and  concluded  that  the  other  two  had  been 
captured  ;  he  sent  oiders  to  Putnam  to  leave 
his  men  in  the  boat,  and  come  ashore  alone. 
Putnam  informed  him  of  the  discovery  he  had 
made,  and  urged  the  necessity  of  returning  im- 
mediately to  make  further  discoveries,  and 
bring  off  the  boats.  Webb  reluctantly  consent- 
ed, and  Putnam  hastened  to  secure  his  be  its  ; 
having  joined  his  men,  he  pressed  further  on 
till  he  discovered  a  large  army  in  motion,  and 
was  seen  by  the  enemy.  Several  of  their  ca- 
noes pursued  him,  and  though  nearly  surround- 
ed at  times,  by  the  most  vigorous  exertions  he 
escaped.  On  his  return,  he  gave  to  general 
Webb,  a  minute  account  of  all  that  he  had  seen 
and  added  that  the  armv  of  the  cnemv  must 
undcabtedly  be  designed  against  fort  William 
Henry.  General  Webb  enjoined  the  most 
absolute  silence  upon  the  subject,  and  directed 
him  to  put  his  men  under  an  oath  of  secrec}-, 
and  prepare  immediately  to  return  to  the  head 
quarters  of  the  army  at  fort  Edward.  Wish- 
ing to  be  engaged  in  surprising  the  enemy  on 
the  lake,  Putnam  made  this  remark,  "  He  ho- 
ped his  excellency  did  not  intend  to  neglect  so 
fair  an  opportunity  of  giving  battle,  should  the 
enemy  presume  to  land."  "  What  do  you 
think  we  should  do  here,"  replied  the  general. 
The  next  day,  Webb  returned  to  fort  Edv;ard, 
escorted  by  Putnam;   and  the  day  after,  colonel 


\■:^■'   I    ' 


i' 


.    Hi''*   ^ 


i'  \\ 


ippp 


:f. 


.    I 


I     / 


\^  if 


I 
i 

lit 


»  I  ^« 


;i.  i'  :' 


I  * 


''■'  *iii 


V'X^-s 


i'll: 


•;5  ■' 


■ft;!' 


11 

is-  i 


i   I 


i  !i 


..f 


S86 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Monro  was  ordered  with  his  regiment  to  rein- 
force the  garrison  at  lake  George.  Aware  ci 
tlie  siege  that  was  about  to  commence,  Putnam 
advised  colonel  Monro  not  to  carry  his  costly 
baggage  &  camp  equipage  ;  but  Monro,not  ap- 
prised of  the  intelligence  which  had  been  given 
to  Webb,  disregarded  the  advice  and  marched 
on  without  any  apprehension  of  immediate  dan- 
ger, t 

The  day  after  Monro  had  arrived  and  taken 
the  command,  the  lake  appeared  to  be  covered 
with  boats  ;  and  a  large  army  of  French  and 
Indians  were  swiftly  approaching  towards  tlie 
fort.  Montcalm  effected  a  landing  with  but 
little  opposition,  and  immediately  began  the 
siege.  A  small  party  of  the  garrison  had  a 
skirmish  with  some  of  the  advanced  parties  of 
the  enemy,  and  some  that  had  been  taken  pris- 
oners, had  been  murdered  ana  scalped  by  the 
Indians  with  circumstances  of  the  most  inhu- 
man barbaritv.  Montcalm  wished  to  avail 
himself  of  this  event,  and  endeavoured  to  pur- 
suade  the  garrison  to  an  immediate  surrender. 
On  the  day  in  which  he  invested  tlie  place,  h.e 
sent  a  letter  to  colonel  Monro,  stating  that  he 
ihought  himself  bound  in  humanity  to  urge 
him  to  surrender  before  any  of  tlie  Indians  were 
slain,  &c  their  savage  temper  should  be  further  in- 
flamed by  a  resistance  which  could  not  be  avail- 
ing.    "  A  detachment  of  your    garrison,   says 

*  he,  has  lately   experienced   their   cruelty  ;    I 

*  have  it  yet  in  my  power  to  restrain  them,  and 
'  oblige  them  to  observe  a  capitulation,  as  none 

+  Humphrey'*  life  of  Putnam,  p.  jy. 


•ir 


,.jj' !'■'!'  ! 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


38T 


''.::   MI 


*  of  them  hitherto  are  killed.  Your  persisting 
'  in  the  defence  of  your  fort,  can  only  retard  its 
'  fate  a  few  days,  and  must  of  necessity  expose 

*  an  unfortunate  garrison,  who  can  possi- 
'  bly  receive  no  relief,  considering  the  precau- 
'  tions  I  have  taken  to  prevent  it.     I  demand  a 

*  decisive  answer,   for   which   purpose  I   have 

*  sent  the  Sieur  Funtbrune,  one  of  my    aides « 

*  du   camp.     You  may  credit  what  he   will  in- 

*  form  you  of,  from  Montcalm." 

Colonel  Monro  was  an  officer  of  distin- 
guished honor  and  fortitude.  He  returned  a 
^  cry  proper  and  spirited  answer,  announcing  to 
the  French  general,  that  as  the  fort  had  been  en- 
trusted to  him,  his  honor  and  his  duty  would 
lead  him  to  defend  it  to  the  last  extremity.  A- 
ware  ox  his  danger,  he  sent  one  express  after  an- 
other to  Webb,  informing  him  of  his  own  situ- 
ation, and  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  with  the 
most  pressing  solicitations  for  immediate  suc- 
cour. The  garrison  consisted  of  about  two 
thousand  five  hundred  men;  the  whole  of  which, 
animated  by  the  hope  and  expectation  of  recei- 
ving relief  from  fort  Edward,  made  a  gallant 
defence.  ' 

General  Webb  had  an  army  at  fort  Ed- 
ward  of  four  thousand  men ,  v/hich  had  been 
considerably  augmented  by  the  troops  under 
tlie  command  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  and  by 
the  militia.  It  is  generally  supposed  that  he 
had  private  intelligence  of  Montcalm's  designs 
and  motions  ;  and  it  was  in  his  power  to  have 
called  in  a  large  number  of  provincial  troops 
from  New  York  and  New  England  ;  and  these 
were  ill  fact  the  best  soldiers  in  a  war  with   the 


I   \ 


1 1, 


'^  J ■ 


li   I 


.•      fl 


'    ,       .1 


i  '. 

•  i 


f)  1 1  'ti 


i  I 


Hi!  '' 


■dliui 


(■!, !     I 


:  1' 


:;;    ,  I 


V  <  M   M         1      ' 

f;  'Mr 

4  m' 


tmtmmmmmiSm 


383 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


:i;ii  ■' 


)       ti 


!''    8 


Canadians  aixl  Indians.  But  he  neither  seem, 
ed  to  have  any  apprehension  of  danj^er,  or  to 
make  any  exertions  lq  prevent  or  avoid  it  ;  but 
remained  rather  indifferent  or  passive  amidst  all 
the  alarming  scenes  that  were  taking  place. 
Such  however  were  the  representations  from 
IVlunro,  and  the  solicitations  in  his  own  campj 
that  on  the  eighth  or  ninth  day  of  the  siege,  gen- 
eral Johnson  was  suffered  to  march  with  all  the 
provi;;cial  regiments,  the  militia,  and  Putnam's 
ra I igcrs.  They  had  not  proceeded  three  miles 
bcibre  the  order  was  countermanded,  and  the 
troo|is  directed  to  return.  Webb  then  wrote 
to  Monro  that  he  could  not  afford  him  any  re- 
lici",  and  advised  him  to  surrender  on  the  best 
terras  that  he  could  obtain. 

Montcalm  was  provided  with  a  good  train 
of  artillery,  and  had  been  accelerating  hi"  ap- 
proaches to  the  fort  with  all  the  expedition  in 
his  power.  When  Johnson  began  his  march, 
some  of  the  Indians  who  were  employed  as  run- 
ners, saw  the  movcm«^nt  and  gave  the  inform  - 
tion  to  Montcalm,  that  a  large  force  was  ap- 
proaching towards  the  lake.  Being  questioned 
re  ipecting  the  numbers,  they  answered  in  their 
fi,4"urative  manner,  "  If  you  can  count  the  leaves 
of  the  trees,  you  can  count  them,  &,c."  In 
consequence  of  this  intelligence,  the  operations 
of  the  siege  were  suspended  ;  and  Montcalm 
was  preparing  to  give  battle,  or  retreat,  as  cir- 
cumstances might  dictate.  Another  Indian  run- 
ner put  an  end  to  the  apprehensions  of  the 
French,  by  the  welcome  tidings  that  the  English 
aruiv  had  returned  to  fort  Edward.^"     ^rom  the 

■  Putnam's  l<ifc,  p.  j8. 


\  \ 


ij'M;,'  f 


K'i^ 


HISTORV  of  VERMONt.        38^ 

return  bf  this  detachment,  Montcalm  found  that 
he  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  British  army  at 
fort  Edward,  and  prosecuted  the  siege  with  fresh 
vigor,  and  t%e  most  confirmed  hopes.  Monroe 
and  his  garrison  defended  themselves  with 
much  spirit  and  resolution  till  their  works  were 
much  injured,  their  ammunition  nearly  expend- 
ed, and  the  enemy  had  made  near  approaches  to 
the  fort.  Still  expecting  to  be  relieved  by  gen- 
eral Webb,  Monroe  had  refused  all  terms  of 
capitulation  from  the  third  to  the  ninth  of  Au- 
gust. Montcalm  had  intercepted  the  letter 
which  Webb  had  wrote  to  Monroe  advising  him 
to  surrender.*  This  letter  was  sent  into  the 
fort  to  Monroe,  with  further  proposals  for  a  ca- 
pitulation. Every  circumstance  now  served  to 
conviticeMonroe  that  it  w6uld  be  impossible  for 
him  to  preserve  the  place,  or  to  hold  out  much 


1  , 


i;  •  I 


I  I     I 


'^  ,1 


Pi 


ii.i':'' 


•  Fort-Edward,  Augnst  4,1a  at  Noon. 
SlR,  "  I  am  directed  by  General  Webb  t*  acknowledge  the  r»» 
•eipt  of  three  of  your  letters;  bearing  date  nine  o'clock  yefterday  morn- 
ing, and  one  about  six  in  the  evening,by  two  rangers,  which  are  the  only 
men  that  have  got  in  here,  except  two  yesterday  morning  with  your 
first,acqualnting  him  that  the  enemy  were  in  sight.  He  has  ordered  m« 
to  acquaint  you,  he  does  not  think  it  prudent,  (as  ysu  know  his  strength 
at  this  place )  to  iittempt  a  junction,  or  to  assist  you,  till  reinforced  by  the 
militia  of  the  colonies,  for  the  immediate  march  of  which  repeated  ex- 
presses have  been  sent.  One  of  our  scouts  brought  ina  Canadian  prison- 
er last  night,  from  the  investing  party,  Whdch  is  very  large,  and  have  pos- 
sessed all  the  grounds  five  miles  on  this  side  of  Fort  William  Henry.  The 
number  of  the  enemy  i«  very  considerable,  the  prisoners  say  eleven  thou- 
fiind,and  have  a  large  triin  of  artillery,  v»  ^h  mortars,  and  were  to  opea 
their  birttcries  this  day.  The  general  thought  proper  to  send  you  this  in- 
JclUgence,  that  in  case  he  shotild  be  so  unfortunate, from  the  delays  of  the 
militia,  not  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  give  you  timely  assistance,  you  might 
be  able  to  make  the  best  terms  left  in  your  power.  The  bearer  is  a  Ser- 
jeant of  the  Connecticut  forces,  and  if  he  is  happy  enough  to  get  in  will 
bring  advices  from  you.  We  keep  continual  scouts  going,  to  endeavor  t» 
get  in,  or  bring  intelligence  from  you.  I  am,  sir,  with  the  heartiest  and 
most  anxious  wishcf  fur  your  welfare,  your  most  obedient  humble  wr^ 
vant. 

G.  BARTMAM,  Aid-dc-Caa^p-. 
To  Col.  Monroe,  or  officer  eommanding 
at  Fort  William  Henry. 


11 


!!': 


1    1i''    I' 

I  ''it;  ! 
1  -i^.  ^' 


I" 
'■It, 


VOL.    I. 


Z  2 


■■\m< 


■<■  "^i 


tjaiuii'-iaagai 


■IPH* 


i    '1 


■[| 


Mt.'M 


::'    I  III 


ii;: 


-1    I 


il" 


:v 


m       ^mm  AND  CIVIL 

long.cr  against  the  French  army ;  and  that  htf 
mil  St  surrender  on  the  best  terms  that  he  could 
obtain.  '       "^  ^ 

Articles  of  capitulation  were  agreed  upon 
and'  signed  by  Montcalm  and  Monroe.  It  was 
stipulated  that  the  garrison  of  fort  William  Hen- 
ry, and  the  troops  in  the  retrenched  camp  should 
xnarcli  out  with  their  arms,  the  baggage  of  the 
officers  and  soldiers,  and  all  the  usual  necessa- 
ries of  war  ;  and  be  escorted  to  fort  Edward, 
by  a  detachment  of  French  troops,  and  interpre- 
ters attached  to  tlie  savages.  That  the  gate  of 
the  fort  should  be  delivered  to  the  troops  of  the 
Tt'^st  christian  king,  immediately  after  signing 
the  capitulation  ;  and  the  retrenched  camp,  on 
the  departure  of  the  British  troops  :  That  all 
the  warlike  stores,  and  every  thing  except  the 
effects  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  should  be  de- 
livered to  the  French  troops.  The  garrison  was 
not  to  serve  against  France  or  her  allies  during 
the  term  of  eighteen  months.  Such  of  the 
French  as  had  been  taken  prisoners  since  the 
commencement  of  the  war,  were  to  be  delivered 
at  Carillon,  ( Ticonderoga)  in  the  space  of  three 
months  ;  in  return  for  which>  an  equal  number 
of  t|ie  garrison  of  fort  William  Henry  should 
be  capacitated  to  serve  in  the  English  armies. 
The  sick  and  wounded  were  to  remain  under 
the  protection  of  Montcalm,  and  were  to  be 
treated  with  humanity  and  tenderness,  and  re- 
turned as  soon  as  they  were  recovered.  An  of- 
iicer  was  to  remahi  as  an  hostage  till  the  safe 
;i[etum  of  the  escort  that  was  to  be  sent  to  guard 
the  British  troops  to  fort  Edward  :  And  as  a 
testimony  of  his  esteem  and  reject  for  colonel 


!  i. 


'    ^ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        ^91 


Monroe  and  his  garrison,  on  account  of  their 
gallant  defence,  Montcalm  was  to  return  on« 
cannon,  a  six  pounder. 

TriE  articles  of  capitulation  were  si^cd  Au- 
gust the  ninth,  and  no  further  difficulties  were 
expected.  But  no  sooner  had  the  British  troops 
marched  out  of  their  camp  than  a  scene  of  per- 
fidy and  barbarity  took  place,  that  had  scarcely 
ever  before  been  acted  among  the  most  brutal 
of  barbarians  and  robbers.  In  avowed  contempt 
and  violation  of  the  articles  of  capitulation,  the 
Indians  attached  to  the  French  army  fell  upon 
the  defenceless  garrison,  plundered,  wounded, 
and  murdered  whatevc^  stood  in  their  way.  The 
following  is  the  accoimt  of  Captain  Jonathan 
Carver,  of  the  Connecticut  troops,  and  one  of 
the  garrison  at  that  time.     **  The  morning  after 

*  the  capitulation  was  signed,  as  soon  as  day 

*  broke,  the  whole  garrison,  now  consisting  of 
'  about  two  thousand  men,  besides  women  and 
'  children,  were  drawn  up  within  the  lines,  and 

*  on  the  point  of  marching  oiF,  when  great  num- 

*  bers  of  the  Indians  gathered  about,  and  began 

*  to  plunder.     We  were  at  first  in  hopes  tfiat 

*  this  was  their  only  view,  and  suffered  them  t» 

<  proceed  without  opposition.     Indeed  it  was 

*  not  in  our  power  to  make  any,  had  we  been 

*  so  inclined  j  for  though  we  were  permitted  to 
'  carry  off  our  arms,  yet  we  were  not  allowed  a 

*  single  round  of  ammunition.     In  these  hopes. 

*  however  we  were  disappointed  j  for  presently 
^  some  of  them  began  to  attack  the  sick  ana 
«  wounded,  when  such  as  were  not  able  to  crawl 

*  into  the  ranks,  notwithstanding  they  endeav- 

<  ored  to  avert  the  fury  of  tlieir  enemies  by  thcic 
shrieks  or  groans,  were  soon  dispatched. 


il 


( 

I 


• :;- 


li 


39S 


NATURAL  AND  GIVIL 


i'   '  II 


\i- 


*  Hire  wc  were  fully  in  expectation  that  th* 
disturbance  would  have  concluded  ;  and  our 
little  army  began  to  move  ;  but  in  a  short, 
time  wc  saw  the  front  division  driven  back  ; 
and  discovered  that  we  were  entirely  encircled 
by  the  savages.  We  expected  every  moment 
that  the  guard,  which,  the  French  by  the  arti- 
cles of  capitulation,  had  agreed  to  allow  us, 
would  have  arrived,  and  put  an  end  to  our  ap- 
prehensions ;  but  none  appeared.  The  In- 
dians now  began  to  strip  every  one  without 
exception,  of  their  arms  and  clothes,  and  those 
who  made  the  least  resistance  felt  the  weight 
of  their  tomahawks. 

*  I  happened  to  be  in  the  rear  division,  but 
it  was  Lot  long  before  I  shared  the  late  o*^  my 
companions.  Three  or  four  of  the  savages 
laid  hold  of  me,  and  whilst  some  held  their 
weapons  over  my  head,  the  others  soon  disro- 
bed me  of  my  coat,  waistcoat,  hut  and  buckles, 
omitting  not  to  take  from  me  what  money  I 
had  in  my  pocket.  As  this  was  transacted 
close  by  the  passage  that  led  from  tlie  lines  on 
to  the  plain,  near  which  a  French  ctntinel  was 
posted,  I  ran  to  him  and  claimed  his  protec- 
tion ;  but  he  only  called  me  an  English  dog, 
and  thrust  mc  with  violence  back  again  into 
the  midst  of  the  Indians. 

*  I  now  endeavored  to  join  a  body  of  our 
troops  tlrnt  were  crowded  together  at  some 
distance  ;  but  innumerable  were  the  blows 
that  were  made  at  me  with  weapons  as  I  pas-, 
sed  on  ;  luckily  however  the  savages  were  so 

•  close  together,  that  they  could  not  strike  a^ 
^  me  without  endangering  each  other.    Notwith-. 


■i 


ti  )i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMOl^T. 


I*  f 


standiiig  which,  one  of  them  found  means  tu 
make  a  thrust  at  me  with  a  spear,  which  j^razed 
my  side,  and  from  another  1  received  a  wound, 
with  the  same  kind  of  weapon,  in  my  ancle. 
At  length  I  gained  the  spot  where  my  coun. 
try  men  stood,  and  forced  myself  into  the  midst 
of  them.  But  before'  I  got  thus  far  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  Indians,  the  collar  and  wristbands 
of  my  shirt  were  all  that  remained  of  it,  and 
my  flesh  was  scratched  and  torn -in  many  pla- 
ces by  their  savage  gripes. 

*  By  this  time  the  war  whoop  was  given,  and 
the  Indians  began  to  murder  those  that  were 
nearest  to  them  wi  Jiout  distinction.  It  is  not 
in  *he  power  of  words  to.  give  any  tolerable 
idea  of  the  horrid  scene  that  now  ensued  ; 
men,  women,  and  children  were  dispatched  in 
the  most  wanton  and  cruel  manner,  and  im- 
mediately scalped.  Many  of  these  savages 
drank  the  blood  of  their  victims,  as  it  flowed 
warm  from  the  fatal  wound. 

'  We  now  perceived,  though  too  late  to  avail 
us,  that  we  were  to  expect  no  relief  from  the 
French  ;  and  that,  contrary  to  the  agreement 
they  had  so  lately  signed,  to  allow  us  a  suffi- 
cient force  to  protect  us  frona  these  insults, 
they  tacitly  permitted  thgm  ;  lor  I  could  plain- 
ly perceive  the  French  oflicers  walking  about 
at  some  distance,  discoursing  with  apparent 
unconcern.  ***** 

*  As  the  circle  in  which  I  stood  enclosed,  by 
this  time  was  much  thinned,  and  death  seemed 
to  be  approaching  v  ith  hasty  strides,  it  was 
prQposed  by  some  of  the  most  resolute  to  make 

^  on^  vigorous  effort,  and  endeavor  to  force  cUf 


!   i: 


ii' 


1  I 


:ii:. 


■ji 


•V 


.'    '  N! 


f  I/* 


'        ii 


iiM, 


It 


394         NATURAL  A^D  CIVIL 


^v^y  through  the  savages,  the  only  pro!)ablo 
method  of  preserving  our  lives  that  now  re« 
maincd.  This,  however  desperate,  was  re- 
solved  on,  and  about  twenty  of  us  sprung  at 
once  into  the  midst  of  them, 

*  In  a  moment  we  were  all  separated,  and 
wliat  was  the  fate  of  my  companions  I  could 
not  learn  till  some  months  after,  when  I  found 
tint  only  six  or  seven  of  them  effected  their 
desigu.  Intent  only  on  my  own  hazardous 
siiuation,  I  endeavored  to  make  my  way  thro* 
iny  savage  enemies  in  the  best  manner  possi- 
hl< .  And  I  have  often  been  astonished  since, 
when  I  have  recollected  :\ith  what  composure 
I  took,  as  I  did,  every  necessary  step  for  my 
preservation.  Some  I  overturned,  being  at  that 
time  young  and  athletic,  and  others  I  passed 
by,  dexterously  avoiding  their  weapons  ;  till 
at  last  two  very  stout  chiefs,  of  the  most  sav- 
i.f^e  tribes,  as  I  could  distinguish  by  their 
dress,  whose  strength  I  could  not  resist,  laid 
hold  of  me  by  each  arm,  and  began  to  force 
me  through  the  crowd. 

*  I  now  resigned  myself  to  my  fate,  not 
doubting  but  that  they  intended  to  dispatch  me, 
and  then  satiate  tlieir  vengeance  with  my 
blood,  as  I  found  they  were  hurrying  me  to- 
wards a  retired  swamp  that  lay  at  some  dis- 
tance. But  before  we  had  got  many  yards,  an 
English  gentleman  of  some  distinction,  as  I 
could  discover  by  his  breeches,  the  only  cov- 
ering he  had  on,  which  were  of  fine  scarlet 
velvet,  rushed  close  by  us.  One  of  the  In- 
dians instantly  relinquished  his  hold,  and 
springing  on  this  new  object,  endeavored  to 


■  \  'M  - 


jr 


\  \ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       3  §5^ 


*  seize  him  as  his  prey  ;  but  the  gentleman  be- 
ing strong,  threw  him  on  the  ground,  and 
would  probably  have  got  a^var,  had  not  he 
who  held  my  other  arni,  quitted  me  to  abi.i;^t 
his  brother.  I  seized  the  opportunity,  and 
hastened  away  to  join  another  party  of  EnpH:.': 
troops  that  were  yet  unbroken,  and  stood  »:.  -x 
body  at  some  distance.  But  before  I  hud  ti 
ken  many  steps,  I  hastily  cast  my  eye  to\"::..  Jt 
the  gentleman,  and  saw  the  Indian's  toni.i.;.;vv'.': 
gash  into  his  backhand  heard  him  utter  'iit;  \-\A 
groan  ;  this  added  both  to  my  speed  aid  J-  -j. 
peration. 

*I  had  left  this  shocking  scene  but  a  .  sv 
yards,  when  a  fine  boy  about  tvvelve  years  of 
age,  that  had  hitherto  escaped,  came  up  to  me 
and  begged  that  I  would  let  him  lay  hold  of 
me,  so  that  he  might  stand  some  chance  of 
getting  out  of  the  hands  of  the  savages.  I  told 
him  that  1  would  give  him  every  assistance  ia 
my  power,  and  to  this  purpose  bid  him  lay 
hold  ;  but  in  a  few  moments  he  was  torn  from 
my  side,  and  by  his  shrieks  I  judge  was  soon 
demolished.  I  could  not  help  forgetting  my 
own  cares  for  a  minute,  to  lament  the  fate  of 
so  young  a  sufferer  ;  but  it  was  utterly  im- 
possible for  me  to  take  any  methods  to  pre- 
vent it. 

*  I  now  got  once  more  into  the  midst  of 
friends,  but  we  were  unable  to  afford  each  oth- 
er any  succour*  As  this  was  the  division  that 
had  advanced  the  farthest  from  the  fort,  I  tho' 
there  might  be  a  possibility  (though  but  a  bare 
one)  of  ihy  forcing  my  Vv^ay  through  the  outer 
ranks  of  Uie  Indians,  and  getting  to  a  neigh- 


.'i: 


/  ' 


'-'. ,  ! 


'I 

I'   ,  ' 


»: 


''  I 


',     f 


ll- 


:^96 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


■    in 


:;i   I 


PI 

'I  i;| 


,  I 


boring  ^vood,  which  I  perceived  at  some  dis* 
tancc.  I  was  still  encouraged  to  hope  by  the 
almo' :t  miraculous  preservation  I  had  already 
experienced.  Nor  were  my  hopes  in  vain,  or 
the  efforts  I  made  ineffectual.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  I  reached  the  wood  ;  but  by  the  time 
I  had  penetrated  a  little  way  into  it,  my  breath 
was  so  exhausted  that  I  threw  myself  into  a 
brake,  and  lay  for  some  minutes  apparently  at 
At  length  I  recovered  the  pow- 


thc 


last  gasp. 


er  of  respiration  ;  but  my  apprehensions  re- 
turned with  all  their  former  force,  when  I  saw 
several  savages  pass  by,  probably  in  pursuit 
of  me,  at  no  very  great  distance.  In  this  sit- 
uation I  knew  not  whether  it  was  better  to 
proceed,  or  endeavor  to  concral  myself  where 
I  lay,  till  night  came  on  ;  fearing,  however, 
that  they  would  return  the  same  way,  I  thought 
it  most  prudent  to  get  further  from  the  dread- 
ful scene  of  my  distresses.  Accordingly, 
striking  into  another  part  of  the  wood,  I  has- 
tened  on  as  fast  as  the  briars  and  the  loss  of 
one  of  my  shoes  would  permit  me  ;  and  after 
a  slow  progress  of  some  hours,  gained  a  hill 
tliat  overlooked  the  plain  which  I  had  just  left, 
from  whence  I  could  discern  that  the  bloody 
storm  still  raf;ed  with  unabated  fury. 
*  But  not  to  tire  my  readers,  I  shall  only 
c.My  that  after  passing  three  days  without  sub- 
;  istence,  and  enduring  the  severity  of  the  cold 
dews  for  tliicc  nights,  I  at  length  reached  fort 
Edward  ;  where  with  proper  care  my  body 
soo!>  recovered  its  wonted  strength,  and  my 
vr/i;-,c1,  as  I'ar  as  the  recollection  of  the  late  mcl- 
n:F.MO'y  events  would  permit,  its  usual  com* 
pooure. 


!,!;■  t"; 


I       I, 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


397 


*  It  was  computed  that  fifteen  hundred  per- 

*  sons  were  killed  or  made  prisoners  by  these 

*  savages  during  this  fatal  day.     Many  of  th« 
'  latter  were  carried  off  by  them  and  never  re- 

*  turned.    A  few,  tlirough  favorable  accidents, 
'  found  their  way  back  to  their  native  country, 

*  after  having  ej^perienced  a  long  and  severe 

*  captivity. 

*  The  brave  colonel  Monroe  had  hastened  a- 
'  way,  soon  after  the  confusion  began,  to  the 
'  French  camp  to  endeavor  to  procure  the  guard 
'  agreed  on  by  the  stipulation  ;  but  his  application 
'  proving  ineffectual,  he  remained  there  till  gen- 
'  cral  Webb  sent  a  party  of  troops  to  demand 

*  and  protect  him  back  to  fort  Edward."* 

Th  e  ii'iy  after  this  awful  tragedy  had  been 
acted,  major  Putnam  was  dispatched  with  his 
rangers  to  watch  the  motions  of  the  enemy. 
He  came  to  the  shore  of  lake  George  when  the 
rear  of  the  enemy  was  scarcely  beyond  the 
reach  of  musquet  shot.  The  prospect  was  aw-^ 
fill  and  horrid  in  the  highest  degree.  The  fort 
was  demolished,  the  barracks,  outhouses  and 
buildings,  were  one  heap  of  ruins  ;  the  cannon, 
stores,  boats  and  vessels,  wtre  carried  away* 
The  fires  were  still  burning,  the  smoke  and 
stench  offensive  and  suffocating;  Innumerable 
fragments  of  human  sculls  and  bones,  and  car- 
cases half  consumed,  were  still  frying  and  broil- 
ing in  the  decaying  fires.  Dead  bodies  man- 
gled with  scalping  knives  and  tomahav^ks,  in 
all  the  wantonness  of  Indian  fierceness  and  bar- 
barity, were  every  where   to  be  seen.     More 

*  Cixrar't  Tsavalc,  f.  zSlf-lti. 
TOL.     I.  As 


(   I 


/  ■      I 


^k  :; 


X 


■;> 


'li'::' 


i 


""*'il.9!ijifl'"i'#;<k. 


•1'       ' 


393 


NATURAL     AND   CIVIL 


i\ 


f     f! 


iKIi 


I  iJ 


1     i! 


:l    •'  is 


tlian  one  hundred  women  inhumanly  stabbed 
and  butchered,  lay  naked  en  the  ground  with 
their  bowels  torn  out,  and  still  weltering  in  their 
gore.  In  some,  their  throats  were  cut  ;  in  oth- 
ers, their  brains  were  oozing  out,  where  the 
hatchet  had  cleaved  their  heads ;  and  in  others, 
the  hair  and  the  scalp  had  been  torn  off,  and 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  the  bloody  skull. 
Devastation,  ]3arbarity,  and  horror,  every  where 
appeared  ;  and  presented  a  spectacle  too  dia- 
bolical and  awful  to  be  endured  or  described.* 
It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  the  French  offi. 
cers  had  contemplated  any  such  proceedings. 
As  soon  as  the  capitulation  was  signed,  St. 
Luke  le  Corne,  who  had  much  influence  among 
the  Indians,  sent  for  colonel  Frye,  who  com- 
manded a  part  of  the  Massachusetts  troops.  Frye 
had  been  in  Nova  Scotia  under  Winslow,  in 
1755,  and  had  protected  several  of  the  French 
inhabitants  from  the  fury  of  the  Indians.  Le 
Corne  told  him  that  he  had  observed,  and  that 
he  well  remembered  the  humanitv,  that  he  had 
shown  to  his  countrvnien  in  Nova  Scotia  ;  that 
he  should  embrace  the  present  opportunily  to 
express  his  gratitude,  and  reward  his  humanity ; 
and  tbat  neither  he,  nor  any  of  the  Massacliii- 
setts  troops,  should  receive  any  insult  or  injury 
from  any  of  the  Indian  tribes.  Frye  believed 
in  Le  Corne's  declarations  ;  but  during  the 
whole  cutrag'/  and  massacre,  Le  Corne  neither 
appeared  himself,  nor  sent  an.y  party  to  afiford 
protection,  or  to  moderate  the  Indian  ven- 
geance, f 

*  Putnam's  Life,  p.  $o. 

t  Col.  Joseiiii  Fryc's  rrfatioa  to  tlic  Autlior. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.         399 


Hi: 


Iiidiuii    vcn- 


How  far  it  was  in  Montcalm's  power  to  have 
prevented  this  scene  of  carnage  and  barbarity, 
it  may  not  be  easy  for  us  to  determine.     The 
marquis  himself  seems  to  have  been  a  man  of 
humanity  and  politeness  ;  and  it  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible but  that  a  brave  and  generous  soldier  must 
have  beheld  such  scenes  of  outrage,   with  dis- 
gust and   abhorrence.     Nor  was  it  possible  but 
that  he  must  have  been  aware  of  the  dangerous 
consequences  of  violating  the  public  faith,  or 
how  much  it  would  effect  his  own  honor  and 
reputation,  to  have   his  prisoners   surrendered 
into  his  power  under  a  solemn  treaty  of  protec- 
tion, murdered  in  his  presence,  and  l)y  a  part  of 
his  own  army.     The  most  that  candor  can  say 
upon  this  subject,  will  be,  that  the  European 
generals  were  not  able  to  restrain  the  fierceness 
and  barbarity  of  their  Indian  allies  ;  that  the 
savages  served  with  them,  not  under  the  prom- 
ise or  expectation  of  wages,   but  solely  with  s^ 
view  of  revenge  and  plunder  ;  that  they  claim- 
ed these  as  their  right,  practice,  and  custom, 
from  time  immemorial  ;  and  did  not  admit  that 
any  of  the  European  commanders  had  any  right 
to  restrain,  or  to  interpose  in  their  customs  and 
usages  of  treating  their  prisoners.     But  when 
all  has  been  said  that  candor  can  suggest,  or  that 
the  customs  and  habits  of  the  savages  can  justi- 
fy or  excuse,  still  it  will  occur,  that  the  garri- 
son had  a  promise  of  protection  from  Mont- 
calm ;  that  they  had  surrendered  under  the  faith 
of  this  protection  ;    tliat  all   the   laws   of  hu- 
manity and  war  required  the  capitulation  to  have 
l)ecn  held  sacred  and  inviolate  ;  that  it  was  in 
his  power  to  have  protected  the  garrison  by  ^ 


^^.!l., 


I  I 


/,'.    I 


>i  ;  I 


it'''       •'* 


400 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


;;;!■ 


,   t  rl 


guard  of  French  troops  ;  tut  that  rather  than 
disgust  the  Indians,  he  broke  every  part  of  the 
capitulation,  violated  his  o\ni  honor,  and  de- 
stroyed the  faith  of  any  future  promises,  by  suf- 
fering a  seduced  and  defenceless  garrison  to  be 
plundered  and  butchered,  in  the  presence  and 
view  of  his  whole  army. 

Expecting  to  be  attacked  himself,  general 
Webb  had  sent  on  expresses  to  the  provinces 
for  reinforcements.  They  were  every  where 
raised  and  sent  on  with  great  expedition  ;  but 
as  Montcalm  had  returned  to  Ticonderoga,  the 
reinforcements  were  kept  in  service  but  a  few 
weeks  :  And  thus  ended  the  third  campaign  in 
America.  \ 

With  an  arrty  of  more  than  twenty  thousand 
regular  troops,  a  great  number  of  provincial  for- 
ces,  and  a  naval  power  of  more  than  twenty 
ships  of  the  line,  nothing  had  succeeded.  Ail 
attempts  against  the  enemy  had  failed  ;  and  the 
French,  with  a  much  inferior  force,  had  every 
where  gained  the  advantage.  The  British  min- 
istry did  not  appear  to  be  sufficiently  acquainted 
wdth  the  state  of  things  in  America,  to  form  a 
judicious  plan  for  a  campaign  in  the  colonies  ; 
nor  did  the  British  generals  appear  to  be  enough 
informed  of  the  nature  of  a  French  and  Indian 
war,  to  carry  it  on  with  success.  Loudon  had 
returned  to  New  York,  and  was  engaged  about 
i-he  civil  affairs  of  the  colonies.  Massachusetts 
had  been  the  most  active  of  all  the  provinces  in 
raising  men  and  money  for  the  war.  In  No- 
vember, Loudon  took  oficnce  at  some  of  the 
proceedings  of  their  assembly  ;  which  he  con- 
strued as  implying  that  an  act  of  tkeir  asiembh 


*  r 


I 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT. 


401 


was  necessary  to  carry  into  effect  an  act  of  the 
British  Parliament  for  quartering  their  troops. 
In  an  hour  of  resentment  he  wrote  to  governor 
Pownall,  November  15,  1757.  *'  Ihuveorcfcr- 
'  ed  the  messenger  to  wait  but  forty  eight  hours 

*  in  Boston  ;  and  if,  u]:)on  his  return,  I  find 
'  things  not  settled,  I   will  instantly  order  into 

*  Boston  the  three  battalions  from  New  York, 

*  Long  Island,  and  Connecticut,  and  if  more  are 

*  wanted,  I  have  two  in  the  Jorsics  at  hand,  be- 

*  sides  three  in  Pennsylvania."  The  return  not 
being  agreeable  to  his  lordship's  feeling,  he  gave 
orders  that  the  troops  should  march.  The- 
matter* being  properly  explained,  his  lordship 
wrote  again,  December  26ih,  *'  As  I  can  no\T 

*  depend  upon  the  assembly's  making  the  point 

*  of  quarters  easy  in  all  time  coming,  I  have 

*  countermanded  the  march  of  the  troops."* 
While  Loudon  was  engaged  in  such  exploits, 
Webb  was  safe  at  fort  Edward  ;  towards  which 
the  enemy  could  not  approach  with  much  force, 
during  the  winter.  The  French  only  were  in  a 
btate  of  activity  and  enjoyment  :  Instead  of 
proving  distressing  or  mortifying  to  them,  the 
war  had  served  to  enlarge  the  boundaries  of 
Canada,  to  fill  it  with  prisoners  and  scalps,  with 
private  plunder,  with  public  stores,  arms,  pro- 
visions, and  other  trophies  of  triumph. 

1758.  The  misfortunes  and  disgraces  which 
had  attended  the  war  for  three  campaigns  had 
been  the  occasion  of  ridicule  and  triumph  to  tlie 
French,  and  had  spread  the  spirit  of  jealousy 
and  discontent  in  every  part  of  Great  Britain, 


'A, 


(     . 


■I 


li' 


.1 


M 


f  .1 


niii:   U 


u. 


^2         NATURAL  AND    CIVIL 


i\ 


m 


> :, 


^  V  ; 


'  \  ll 


and  her  American  colonics.  The  people  in 
both  countries  became  loud  and  clamorous  in 
their  complaints  and  censures  of  the  British 
ministry  and  generals  ;  and  it  was  become  ap, 
parent  that  the  public  confidence  was  withurawn 
from  the  men  \^  ho  had  hitherto  directed  ihe  af- 
fairs of  the  \Yi\r.  Tlie  Briti.sh  nation  was  alarm- 
ed with  the  prospect,  and  the  British  court 
found  it  necessary  to  change  her  councils.  A 
new  mhiistrv  was  formed,  and  the  celt  brated 
William  Pitt  was  appointed  one  of  the  sec- 
retaries of  state.  Public  confidence  seemed  to 
rise  fi'om  the  g^rave,  the  national  spirit  was 
rpuscd  up,  and  the  people  every  where  expect- 
ing much  from  the  spirit  and  virtues,  were  ea- 
ger and  active  to  support  the  measures  of  their 
iarorite  patriot  and  statesman.  The  reduction 
of  the  French,  and  the  increasing  prosperity  of 
the  English  colonics,  had  been  the  avowed  ob- 
jects in  all  his  speeches  and  i)roposais  ;  the 
imiversal  expectation  was,  that  he  would  now 
employ  the  national  force  in  energetic  and  ac- 
tive services. 

The  plan  whlcli  the  new  minister  formed  for 
the  ensuing  campaign  in  America,  was  to  at- 
tack, the  French  in  various  parts  of  the  country 
at  the  same  time.  Twelve  thousanel  men  were 
destined  to  attempt  the  conquest  of  Louisbourg, 
on  the  Island  of  Cape  Breton.  Sixteen  or  sev- 
enteen thousand  men  to  cross  lake  George,  and 
make  a  vigorous  attcm])t  upon  the  forts  at  Ti- 
conderoga  and  Crown  Point.  Eight  thousand 
were  to  proceed  to  fort  Du  Quesne  on  the 
Ohio,  and  invade  tlie  French  forts  and  settle- 
jrients  in  that  part  of  the  country.     And  all  ths 


»  I 


\\\ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      4iS 


American  colonies  were  called  upon,  to  raise  as 
many  troops,  and  to  make  all  the  exertions  in 
their  power. 

The  rcrliiction  of  Louisbourg  and  the  island 
of  Cape  Breton  being  an  object  of  immediate 
consideration,  was  undertaken  with  much  spirit 
and  dispatch.  Lord  Loudon  liad  »cturncd  to 
Eng;land,  and  was  no  lonj^er  employed  in  the 
affairs  of  the  colonies.  The  expedition  was 
pul:  under  the  command  of  major  general  Am- 
herst, assisted  I)y  the  brigadier  j^jenerals,  Wol.e, 
Whitmorc,  and  Lawrence.  The  naval  force 
was  put  under  the  command  of  admiral  Bosca- 
wen,  who  sailed  early  in  the  spring  with  the 
fleet  and  forces  for  America.  The  whole  arma- 
ment collected  at  Halifaxin  Nova  Scotia,  and 
consisted  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  seven  sail. 
On  May  the  twenty  eighth  the  fleet  sailed  from 
Halifax,  and  on  the  second  of  June,  part  of  the 
transports  anchored  in  Gabarous  bay,  about  sev- 
en miles  to  the  westward  of  Louisboiu'g.  On 
the  eighth  the  troops  effected  their  landing  un- 
der the  command  of  the  able  and  spirited  gene- 
ral Wolfe,  and  in  a  few  days  compleatly  invest- 
ed the  city. 

LouiSBOTjRG  had  a  garrison  of  two  thousand 
five  hundred  regular  troops,  three  hundred  mi- 
litia, and  was  afierwards  reinforced  by  three 
hundred  and  fifty  Canadians,  including  three- 
score Indians.  The  harbor  was  secured  by  six 
ships  of  the  line,  and  five  frigates  ;  the  whole 
under  die  command  of  the  cheveleur  Drucour. 
With  much  expence  and  labor,  the  governor 
had  been  preparing  for  a  siege.  Amherst  made 
kis    apprcachss     with    great     circumspection, 


.ii, 


I  ) ., 


1!, 


i:;'  •'!' 


-1.  '  /  1  ' 

■I    i>      I  : 


,f  » 


I  I 


i-  if!}'. 


^Oi 


NATURAL   AND  CITIL 


II 'M 


I    h\\  \ 


t:   I 


'n    ,  i 


t       !^r 


securing  his  camp  with  redoubts  andepaulmcnU 
from  the  insults  of  the  Canadians  and  Indians  ; 
of  whom  he  was  informed  there  were  very  con- 
siderable  bodies  on  the  island  watching  for  an 
opportunity  to  surprise  some  part  of  his  camji. 
Wolfe  conducted  with  all  that  fire,  impetuosity 
and  discretion,  with  which  his  name  and  charac- 
ter have  since  been  distinguished  and  immortal- 
ised.  Under  the  direction  of  these  excellent 
commanders  the  siege  was  carried  on  with  so 
mtich  caution  and  vigor  that  the  .French  ships  of 
war  were  soon  destroyed,  and  the  garrison 
obliged  to  surrender  as  prisoners  of  \t'ar  on  the 
Iwentr  sixth  of  July.  Lord  Rollo  soon  after 
effected  the  reduction  of  the  island  St.  John, 
which  lies  in  the  gulph  of  St.  Lawrence.  This 
island  contained  above  four  thousand  inhabitants 
and  abounded  in  black  cattle  and  corn. 

While  Amherst  was  engaged  in  the  expedi- 
tion against  Louisbourg,  major  general  Abcr- 
crombie  was  undertaking  the  reduction  of  Ti- 

o 

conderoga.  Upon  the  departure  of  the  earl  of 
Loudon  to  England,  the  chief  command  of  the 
troops  in  America  had  devolved  upon  him  ;  and 
he  was  directed  to  open  a  passage  to  Canada  by 
reducing  the  French  forts  on  lake  Champlain. 
In  the  beginning  of  July  he  had  got  every  thinj* 
in  readiness  to  proceed.  His  forces  amounted 
to  nearly  seven  thousand  regular  troops,  and  ten 
thousand  provincials.  These,  with  a  fine  train 
of  artillery,  military  stores,  and  provisions,  were 
embarked  on  lake  George,  on  board  of  nin« 
hundred  batteaux,  and  one  hundred  and  thirty 
five  whale  boats  ;  several  pieces  of  cannon  wers 
Rio'intcd  on  f^fm  to  cover  tiieir  landing.     The 


HISTOKY  OF  VERMONT.        40« 


:['''■! 


^xt  day  the  troops  landed  at  the  place  of  des- 
tination, without  any  opposition. 

The  Enj^lish  troops  having  landed  were  im- 
mediately formed  into  three  columns,  and  moved 
forward  toward  the  eL^.iy.  The  advanced 
party  of  the  French  army  consisted  of  a  battal- 
ion, which  lay  encamped  behind  a  breast  work 
of  logs.  This  party,  upon  the  approach  of  the 
English  army,  set  fire  to  their  breast  work  and 
tents,  and  abandoned  them  with  precipitation. 
The  English  forces  continued  to  advance  in  re- 
gular order,  but  their  route  lay  through  a  thick 
wood,  which  would  not  admit  of  a  regular  pro- 
gression by  columns  ;  and  made  it  impossible 
for  the  troops  to  preserve  their  designed  arrange- 
ment and  order.  The  guides  were  much  em- 
barrassed, and  the  columns,  by  crowding  upoa 
one  another,  were  in  some  measure  disordered 
and  broken. 

Lord  Howe  was  in  the  front  of  the  centr* 
column,  having  major  Putnam  with  him.  The 
advanced  body  of  the  enemy  amounting  to  a- 
bout  five  hundred,  who  had  retreated  from  the 
breast  work,  began  a  skirmish  with  the  English 
troops  on  the  left.  Attentive  to  every  circum- 
stance that  concerned  the  troops,  Howe  enquired 
of  Putnam,  **  what  the  firing  meant."  "  I 
kno  wnot,  said  Putnam,  but  with  your  lordship's 
leave,  I  will  go  and  see."  "  I  will  go  with 
YOU,"  rejoined  the  gallant  young  nobleman. 
Putnam  endeavored  to  dissuade  him,  and  made 
this  remark,  "  My  Lord,  if  I  am  killed,  the  loss 
of  my  life  will  be  of  little  consequence,  but  the 
preservation  of  }  ours  is  of  infinite  importance 
\o  the  army."  His  lordship  made  this  reply^ 
VOL.  I.         B  3 


•      Ml  i 


^if 


ml' 


406 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I  / 


f 


h  I    ft 


(,  I, 


(    •*.? 


'/I       1 


*'  Putnam,  your  life  is  as  dear  to  you  as  mine 
is  to  nie,  I  am  determined  to  go."  One  luui^ 
dred  of  the  van  under  Putnam,  immediately 
filed  off  with  lord  Howe.  They  soon  fell  in 
\vith  the  left  flank  of  the  enemy's  advanced  par- 
ty, and  their  first  fire  proved  fatal  to  his  lord- 
ship. Thus  fell  this  gaUant  young  nobleman, 
unspeakably  regretted  by  all  who  knew  him. 

JIis  mariners  and  his  virtues  had  made  him 
the  idol  of  the  army.     From  his  first  arrival  in 
America,  he  had  accommodated   himself  and 
liis  regiment  to  tiie  peculiar  nature  of  the  ser- 
vice.     He   cut   his   hair  short,    fashioned  his 
clothing,  and  divested  himself  and  his  regiment 
of  all  superfluous  baggage,  that  they  might  not 
be  entangled  by  tlie  woods,  or  be  easily  captur- 
ed  by  the  Indians.     "  Exemplary  to  the  officer, 
a  friend  to  the  soldier,  the  model  of  discipline, 
he  had  not  failed  to  encounter  every   hardship 
and  hazard."*     Such  were  his  virtues  and  ser- 
vices  that  tlie  province  of  Massachusetts,  mov- 
ed by  gratitude  erected  a  monument  in  West- 
minster   Abbey,  as  a  testimony  of  the  regard 
and  affection  which  their  officers  and  soldiers 
bore  to  his  mcmory.f 

Nor  was  his  death  without  its  influence  and 
use.  Putnam  and  the  troops  which  saw  him 
fall,  moved  on  with  an  animated  determination 
to  avenge  his  death  ;  they  cut  their  way  ob- 
liquely through  the  enemy's  ranks,  and  being 
joined  by  some  other  parties,  charged  so  furi- 
ously in  the  rear,  that  nearly  three  hundred  of 
tlie  enemy  were  killed  on  tlie  spot,  suid  one 

•  Putnam's  Life, p. ja;  •  .^  • 

t  Appeudu,  N«.  VH. 


•   «,. 


HISTORY  OF    VERSION  r.       407 


'  M 


hundred  and  forty  eight  wcro  made  prinojicr^. 
In  thcmcan  lime  thcEnglislicolinnnsJiaviitjr  lost 
their  order  in  the  wood,  became  embarrassed 
and  perplexed  ;  and  the  troops  were  in  dangoj-, 
and  in  a  few  instances  had  already  fired  on  each 
other.  The  general,  pereeivinj^  tlieir  fatir^iic 
and  disorder,  thought  it  advisable  not  to  spei.d 
the  night  in  such  a  situation,  but  to  march  them 
back  to  the  place  where  they  had  landed. 

The  next  day  colonel  Bradstreet  was  sent  to 
take  possession  of  the  saw  mills.  Wita  a  de- 
tachment of  one  regiment  of  regular  troops,  six 
companies  of  the  royal  Americans,  the  l^atteuii 
men,  and  a  body  of  rangers,  he  took  possession 
of  the  post  without  opposition.  This  post  be- 
ing secured,  the  general  a,^ain  advanced  his  ar- 
my against  the  enemy 

The  fort  at  Ticonderoga  was  in  a  situation 
favoralle  for  defence.  On  three  sides,  the  for- 
tress was  surrounded  with  water  ;  on  the  fourth, 
nature  had  secured  it  with  a  dangeraus  mo  rass, 
which  could  not  be  passed  without  much  difli- 
cultv.  The  fort  was  secured  with  a  breast  work 
eight  feet  high,  planted  with  artillery.  The 
ground  before  it  was  covered  with  an  abattis, 
or  large  trees  cut  and  disposed  for  defence. 
Much  labor  had  been  employed  to  sharpen,  in- 
terweave, and  project  their  branches,  so  that 
they  could  not  be  passed  or  removed  without 
difliculty  and  time.  The  prisoners  which  had 
been  taken,  informed  general  Abercrombie,  that 
the  force  of  the  enemy  consisted  of  eight  bat- 
talions, with  a  body  of  Canadians  and  Indians, 
amounting  in  the  whole  to  six  thousand  men. 
That  another  body  of  troops  of  three  thousantl 


•I  I 
il 


!  f 


I  i 


ai 


i^  I: 


sM: 


4408         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


r 


*  1   ii 


■t  ^i 


n  If 


!    I 


■i.y 


-'.'    J 


i  M 


men  had  been  detached  under  the  command  of 
M.  de  Levy,  to  make  a  diversion  by  the  way  ol' 
Mohawk  river,  and  to  invade  the  Fiiiglish  set. 
tlements  in  that  quarter  ;  but  that  tlicse  troops 
upon  the  intelHgence  of  Abercrombic's  approach 
had  been  recalled,  and  directed  to  join  the  force 
at  Ticonderoga  :  And  that  the  troops  already 
there,  were  encamped  before  the  fort,  and  con- 
stantly at  work  in  making  formidable  entrench- 
ments, which  they  meant  to  pursue  till  the  rein- 
forcements should  arrive. 

Abercrombie  wished  if  possible  to  take 
decisive  measures  to  reduce  the  garrison  before 
the  arrival  of  M.  de  Levy  with  his  troops,  or 
any  other  succours  should  be  thrown  into  the 
place.  It  was  found  that  it  would  be  the  work 
of  time,  to  reduce  the  place  by  a  regular  siege  ; 
that  it  could  not  be  done,  till  they  had  overcome 
tliC  difficulties  of  dragging  their  battering  can- 
non over  grounds  almost  impassable  ;  till  they 
could  make  approaches,  and  erect  batteries  in 
places  covered  with  thick  woods  ;  that  the  trees 
must  be  cut  away,  roads  be  opened  and  many 
works  erected,  before  they  could  invest  the  place. 
To  gain  further  information,  Abercrombie  sent 
his  engineer  early  the  next  morning  to  cross  the 
river  opposite  to  the  fort  and  reconnoitre  the 
enemy's  situation.  The  engineer,  upon  his  re- 
turn, reported  that  the  entrenchments  of  the  en- 
emy were  unfinished  ;  and  that  it  was  his  oj)in- 
ion,  that  the  place  might  be  attempted  with 
musquetry,  with  a  good  prospect  of  success. 
Abercrombie  depended  on  the  intelligence  of 
his  engineer,  and  concluded  to  adopt  his  advice. 

Having  determined  upon  Uie  measure,  the 


HISTORY  OF  VRRISIONT. 


40> 


command  of 


disposition  was  made  for  tlic  attack,  and  guards 
phiccd  at  the  saw  mill,  and  landiii*^  place.  The 
army  was  then  put  in  motion,  aud  it  marched 
on  to  the  assault  in  regular  order,  and  with  an 
undaunted  resolution.  The  enemy  instantly 
began  their  defence  by  a  well  directed  and  ter- 
rible fire  from  their  artillery.  The  British  sus- 
tained the  shock  without  being  staggered,  and 
still  advanced  till  they  were  sLoj)ped  and  entan- 
gled by  the  abattis.  Their  next  attempt  was 
to  cut  their  way  through  these  obstacles  with 
their  swords  ;  but  this,  they  found  impossible 
to  effect,  with  such  weapons.  Still  they  perse- 
vered in  attempting  to  force  a  passage,  and 
some  of  them  made  their  way  through  all  oppo- 
sition till  they  mounted  the  parapet.  For  more 
than  four  hours  the  troops  continued  this  meth- 
od of  assault,  without  being  able  to  open  a  pas- 
sage to  the  entrenchment.  All  this  while  they 
were  exposed  to  a  heavy  and  fatal  fire  from  the 
cannon  and  musquetry  of  the  enemy  ;  \vho  were 
so  well  covered  by  their  works,  as  to  be  expos- 
ed to  little  danger  while  they  kept  up  an  inces- 
sant and  well  directed  fire  upon  their  assailants. 
The  general  had  seen  his  troops  continuing 
their  attack  upon  the  enemy  for  several  hours 
without  any  prospect  of  success,  in  the  midst  of 
a  most  fatal  fire  ;  he  now  judged  it  necessary  to 
order  a  retreat,  and  the  army  returned  to  their 
former  camp  without  being  pursued  or  molested 
by  the  enemy. 

The  loss  sustained  by  the  enemy  in  this  af- 
fair was  not  great  ;  and  most  of  those  who  had 
fallen  were  shot  through  the  head,  every  other 
part  of  the  body  being  defended  and  concealed 


-I.     "'I 


V       [I 


t -f. 


•  I 


'ri 


fl 


410 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


'I; 


by  their  works.  The  loss  in  the  English  army 
amounted  to  eighteen  hundred  men,  killed  and 
wounded  ;  and  two  thousand  and  five  hu.'drcd 
stand   of  arms  were   taken    by   the  French.*- 


i\ 


t  W^ 


!    I 


]l 


*  Cencral  Abcicrombie's  account  of  hit  expedition  againft  Ticondcrn^a, 

*•  Camp  at  Lake  George,  July  1 1, 1 758. 

THE  embarkation  of  the  anillery,  ftoretand  provifions  bein;;  com- 
pTeated  on  the  evening  of  the  4th  inflaiit ;  next  morning  at  break  ot^  day 
|he  tcnta  were  (lruck,and  all  the  troops,  amounting  to  6367  regulars,  oHi- 
eers,  light  infantry,  and  ran>!ers  included,  and  9024  provincials,  including 
efBcera  nnd  bntteau  m|ri,  embaiked  in  about  900  battcanx,  and  135  whale 
l)oat$,  the  artillery  to  cover  our  landing,  being  mounted  on  rafts. 

At  Rve  in  the  evening,  reached  Sabbath  Day  Points  (25  milei  down  the 
take)  wh^re  we  halted  til!  ten,  then  got  under  way  again,  and  proceeded 
to  the  landing  place  (a  cm-c  leading  to  the  French  advanced  guard)  which 
we  reached  early  nrxt  morning,  the  61  h. 

Upon  our  arrival,  fcnt  oiu  a  reconnoitring  party  ;  and  having  met  with 
BO  oppofition,  landed  thctioops,  formed  thcrn  in  four  columns,  rc;;ulars 
in  the  centre,  and  proviucials  on  the  flanks,  and  marched  tcjwaid  the  ene- 
my's advanced  guard,  compofrd  of  one  bartaiiun,  polled  on  a  logged 
tamp,  which,  upon  our  approach  they  dcfertrd,  firft  fcttin.;  Hrc  to  th;'ir 
tents,  and  dclltoying every  thing  they  could  ;  but  as  their  retreat  was  very 
precipitate,  ihry  left  (everal  ihiogs  behind,  which  thrv  had  not  tmie  ciihtr 
10  burn  or  carry  oil.  In  this  camp  we  likcwifo  lound  one  prifoner  and  a 
4ead  mail. 

The  army  in  the  forcjjoing  ordrr  continued  their  march  throuL^ti  the 
VOvd  on  the  weft  fide,  with  a  dtfign  to  invcit  ficouderoga,  but  the  wood 
being  very  thick,  impaiTable  wuh  any  irgnlarify  to  fuch  a  liody  of  ni?ii, 
and  the  guides  unlkilful,  the  troops  were  bewildered,  and  ii:c  columns 
broke,  failing  in  one  upon  another. 

Lord  Howe,  at  the  head  of  the  rialit  centra  column,  fupported  by  fli« 
light  Infantry,  being  advanced,  fell  la  with  a  French  par'.y,  fupp»r<"d  f.(5 
•onfift  of  abiiut  4Q0  regulari.  and  a  few  Indians,  who  h<id  i  Uswiie  lotl 
thcmfclvcs  ill  the  retreat  from  the  ad>'aurr.d  f,\:nd  ;  cA  iliefe  our  flankers 
killed  a  great  many,  and  took  1^8  prifi  ncz;,  araang  whom  v.cre  five  ot- 
ftcers  and  three  cadets. 

But  tills  imall  fucceH?  oft  us  vny  ticir,  not  as  to  the  lofs  of  numbers 
fir  we  had  only  two  officers  kili'-d,  but  at  to  confrquence,  his  lordflii(» 
being  the  firtt  man  that  fell  in  ihii  ikirniifli ;  and  as  lie  wa;,  very  dcferve  ;  • 
ly,  univcifally  beloved  and  refpedlcd  throu(ihout  ihe  whiilcarmy,  ii  is  eJ'y 
to  conceive  the  grief  and  coniti-rnaiion  his  untimely  fall  occalur.cd  ;  !'>r 
my  part,  I  cannot  help  ownin;j;  that  I  fell  itnioft  heavily,  and  lament  iuim 
;u  fincfrely. 

1  he  9th,  the  troops  being  greatly  fa' i^ued,  by  having  been  one  whole 
light  on  the  wi'er,  thf  foUowin^j  day  cotitla.rly  on  foot,  and  the  next  da? 
■nder  arms,  ad. led  to  their  being  in  wa.it  of  provifion,  having  dropped 
what  they  had  brought  with  them,  in  oidcr  to  lighten  thcmfclvcs,  it  was 
thought  ^dvifeablc  to  return  to  the  Winding  place,  whidt  we  accordingly 
itd.  aiwat  ti^bt  tfa^t  moniinj>. 


ll     ' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT*        411 


:  t,';i  I 


Every  corps  which  had  been  engaged  on  thii 
unfortunate  occasion,  had  behaved  with  a  stead/ 
coohiess  and  intrepidity  ;  and  suffered  very  se- 
verely. But  the  heaviest  loss  fell  on  the  regi- 
ment of  Higiilanders,  commanded  by  lord  John 
Murray  ;  one  half  of  the  privates,  and  twenty 
five  ofllcers  of  this  regiment  were  either  slain 
upon  the  spot  or  desperately  wounded.*  So 
heavy  and  severe  a  loss  seems  to  have  determin- 
ed the  English  general  to  withdraw  his  army 


I     I 


About  eleven  in  the  forenoon,  Tent  ofT  Lurut.  Col.  Bradftreet,  with  tht 
44ih  i-cgiihent,  fu  companiea  of  the  iirft  battalion  of  the  royal  Americang. 
the  batteau  inrn,  and  a  body  of  ranj;crs  and  provincials,  to  take  pofTedioii 
of  the  Saw  Mill,  within  two  miiei  of  Ticondcroga,  wiiich  he  foon  elfe£led  : 
as  the  enemy  who  were  podcd  there,  after  dedroyingthe  mill  and  breaks 
tng  down  their  bridge,  had  retired  foine  time  before. 

Licittrnant  Colonel  Bradftrcet  having  laid  another  bridge  acrofs,  and 
having  fent  me  notice  of  his  being  in  pofTeirion  of  that  ground,  I  according- 
ly marched  thither  with  the  troopi,  and  we  took  up  our  quarters  thcr^ 
that  night. 

The  prifoners  we  had  taken  being  unanimous  in  their  reports,  that  the 
French  had  eight  baitalions,  fomc  Canadians  and  cobny  troops,  in  all 
about  6'joo,  encamped  before  their  fort,  who  were  intrenching  themfclvest 
and  throwing  up  a  breaQ.  work,  and  that  they  exp<£led  a  reinfoircetnent  of 
3000  Canadians,  bcfides  Indians,  who  had  been  detached  under.the  com- 
mand of  Monfieur  de  Levy,  tc»  make  a  diverfion  on  the  fide  of  the  Mo- 
hawk river  ;  but  upon  intelligence  of  our  preparations  and  near  approach* 
had  been  repeatedly  recalled,  and  was  hourly  cxpcfled  ;  it  was  thought 
mofl  advifable  to  lofc  no  t<me  in  making  the  attack  ;  wherefore  early  is 
the  morning  of  the  Sh,  I  fent  Mr.  Clerk,  the  engineer,  acrofs  the  river  on 
the  oppofite  fide  of  the  fort,  in  order  to  reconnoitre  the  enemy's  intrench- 
Kirnts. 

Upon  his  return,  and  favourable  report  of  the  praQicability  of  carrying 
thofe  works,  if  attacked  before  they  were  finilhcd,  it  was  agreed  to  (lonn 
them  that  very  day  :  Accordingly  the  rangers,  light  infantry  and  the  right 
wing  of  Provincials,  were  ordered  immediately  to  march  and  poft  them- 
felves  in  a  line,  out  of  cannon  fhot  of  the  intrenchments  ;  the  right  extend*! 
ingto  Lake  George,  and  the  left  to  Lake  Champlain,  in  order  that  the  re- 
gular troops,  deUined  for  the  attack  of  the  intrenchmcnt s,  might  form  oB 
tbeir  rear. 

The  Piquets  were  to  begin  thd  attack,  fuftaiaed  by  the  grenadiers,  and 
by  the  battalions :  the  whoic  were  ordered  to  march  up  brilkly,  ru(h  upon 
the  enemy's  fire,  and  not  give  theirs,  until  they  were  within  the  enemy '« 
bread  work. 

*  S/BoUct's  Ittnt.  of  Et^glaad,  Vol.  J,p.  »S«. 


:*  '  •! 


!i''- 


:,|1 


I  ;, 


'1't. 


i 


i] 

'  ■  t't  : 


mm 


■  Hi 


If   I 


1 

r' 

\ 

I^M^^.^  . 

412         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

from  this  scene  of  carnage  and  havoc  ;  they 
reembarked  in  their  batteaux,  and  returned  to 
their  camp  at  lake  George  with  such  expedition, 
that  they  regained  their  former  situation  the 
evening  after  the  fatal  action. 

If  general  Abercrombie  was  not  blameable, 
he  was  at  least  extremely  unfortunate  in  this 
fatal  affair.  The  information  and  advice  that  he 
received  from  his  engineer  was  greatly  errone- 
ous and  faulty  ;  and  it  should  seem  that  a  little 
enquiry  would  have  been  sufficient  to  convince 
the  general,  that  the  works  at  Ticonderoga  could 

After  thefe  orders  iflfuec!,  the  whole  irmy,  except  what  had  been  left  at 
the  landing  place  to  cover  and  guard  the  batteaux  and  whale  boats,  and  a 
Provincial  icgiineat  at  the  Saw  Millt  were  put  in  motion,  and  advanced  to 
Ticonderoga,  where  they  unfortunately  found  the  intrenchments,  not  only 
much  (Ironger  than  had  been  reprefentcd,  and  the  breaft  work  at  lead  eight 
or  nine  feet  high  /  but  likewife  the  ground  before  it  covered  with  felled 
trees,  the  branches  pointed  outwards,  which  fo  fatigued  and  retarded  the 
advancing  of  the  troops,  that  iiotwithdanding  alt  their  intrepidity  and 
bravery,  which  I  cannot  to»  much  commend,  we  fuftained  fo  confideiable 
a  lofi,  without  any  profpefl  of  better  fuccefs,  that  it  was  no  longer  pru- 
dent to  remain  before  it ;  and  it  was  therefore  judged  neceflary,  for  the 
nrefervation  of  the  remainder  of  fo  many  brave  men,  to  prevent  a  total  de« 
?cat,  that  we  (hould  make  the  bed  retreat  poflible  :  Accordingly,  after 
fcveial  repeated  attacks,  which  lafted  upwards  of  four  hours,  under  the 
moft  difadvantageous  circumdanccs,  and  with  the  lofs  of  464  regulars  kil- 
led, 29  mifling,  1117  wounded  ;  and  87  Provincials  killed,  SmifTing,  and 
£39  wounded,  officers  of  both  included,  I  retired  to  the  camp  we  occupied 
the  night  before,  with  the  broken  remains  of  fcveral  corps,  fending  away 
all  the  wounded  to  the  batteaux,  about  three  miles  diftance  ;  and  early  the 
orxt  morning  we  arrived  there  ourfelves,  embarked,  and  reached  this  place 
the  evening  of  the  9th.  Immediately  after  my  return  here,  I  fent  the 
«v-ounded  ofHcers  and  men  that  could  be  moved,  to  Fort  Edward  and 
A'.baay." 

The  French,  in  the  account  which  they  publilhed  at  Paris  in  Septem- 
bfr,  gave  a  very  different  but  not  a  probable  account  of  this  rencounter. 
Thrirown  force  was  dated  toconfift  only  of  2800  French,  and  450  colony 
Itoops,  under  the  marquis  dc  Montcalm  ;  with  400  chofen  men  under  the 
chevalier  de  Levy,  that  had  joined  them  only  on  the  7th  in  the  evening! 
The  lots  of  the  Engliih  is  reprefentrd  at  4000  killed  and  wounded ;  that 
the  Ficnch  lod  that  day  only  la  ofHcers  and  ok  foldier«,  killed  ;  and  248 
(n'diers  w  ounded.  Their  lofs  in  the  fkirmilh  of  the  6:h  of  July,  is  thus 
fta'od,  1  rap'iain  and  u  lieutenants  killed ;  i  captain  and  3  liemenan's 
nude  piiCuiicrs  ;  and  184  Canadians  killed  or  taken  :  And  that  the 
£n^Ii!h  force  confiAed  of  so,ooo  militia,  and  6000  regahr  troops. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        413 


I  >  ii  i 


.,  t 


2>ot  -be.  earned  by  a  conp  de  main.  Had  he 
contiriued  ilie  asscuilt,  lliere  cai  be  no  d(;nbt, 
bnt  tlv.t  he  vr<nil J  have  lost  alujost  the  whole  of 
h'j  iiriTiy.  If  the  assault  was  rush  and  precipi- 
tate, the  retreat  seems  to  bear  the  marks  of  un- 
ne^'essary  inti.iiid.Uion  and  hurry  ;  for  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  what  daiiijer  there  could  have 
been,  in  cotrimencing  a  re^^ular  siege  uith  troops, 
vvho.had  discovered  suc]\  counifi:e  and  resolution 
i,s  appeared  in  the  assault.  We  ought  however 
not  to  be  very  positive  in  passing  our  censures 
Oil  men  and  nieasmes,  v.  here  all  the  circumstan- 
ces and  nyjtives  are  but  imperfectly  known. 
The  censure  of  maiikind  almost  always  follows 
misfortune.  Thus  it  proved  in  the  present  case  ; 
the  attem.pt  to  carry  the  place  by  storm,  was 
considered  as  a  rash  tuid  imprudent  measure  ; 
i.\vx\  'u^  retreat  was  condemned  as  pusiiianimous 
anc      .  eccssary. 

l\w'i  WITHSTANDING  liis  defeat  and  mortifi- 
caiion,  A'jcrcrombie  did  not  let  the  season  pass 
away  wiCliout  further  attempts  in  favor  of  tho 
colonies.  Brij^-adler  general  Stanwix  was  sent 
with  a  considerable  body  of  provincials,  to  erect 
a  fort  at  the  carrying  place  at  Oneida  ;  and  thus 
secure  a  ])assage  on  tlie  Molvawi;  and  Onondago 
ri\'crs  to  Osv/ego.  Tl/is  business  was  properly 
■executed,  and  that  important  nest  secured  ;  a 
men  sure  w'nich  proved  greatly  beneficial  in  the 
er.suing  campaigns. 

Colonel  Bradstreet  had  projected  an 
expedition  against  Cadaraqiii,  or  fort  Frontenac. 
This  fort  was  situated  on  the  north  side  of  the 
river  St.  Lawrence,  just  at  the  point  where  the 
rir\er  derives  its  origin  at  lake  Ontario.  A- 
voL.   I.         C  3 


Jt; 


I  I 


"ill' 


•  il 


( 


■h  ,, 

f 


I*  ■' 


■   I 


i; ' 


[II 


i   n 


if 


i 

•       K  1  t  • 


! 


J    I 


!'i? 


m 


li  ^• 


414 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


gninst  this  fortress,  Abercrombie  dis'pRtchcd 
BradstLTCt  witli  three  thousand  men,  chiefly 
provincials.  He  marched  his  troops  by  hmd  to 
the  waters  of  lake  Ontario,  and  embarked  thence 
in  some  sloops  and  batteaux  provided  for  the 
purpose,  and  landed  within  a  mile  of  fort  Fron- 
tenac.  Th*  enemy  hud  no  intelligence  or  ex- 
pectaiion  of  his  approach,  and  were  poorly  pre- 
pared for  defence.  The  garrison  consisted  of 
but  one  hundred  and  ten  men,  with  a  few  In- 
dians ;  and  could  do  no  otherwise  than  surren- 
der at  discretion.  The  fort  itself  was  not  of 
much  strength  ;  but  it  was  valuable  on  account 
of  the  immense  quantity  of  military  stores  and 
merchandize,  which  it  contained.  Sixty  pieces 
of  cannon,  sixteen  mortars,  and  a  quantity  of 
small  arms  were  found  in  the  fort.  VV  hat  was 
more  valuable,  a  large  quantity  of  provisions  was 
also  captured  ;  these  had  been  deposited  at  Ca- 
daraqui,  for  the  use  of  their  western  garrisons, 
and  Indian  allies  ;  to  supply  the  FrcncJi  troops 
that  were  gojie  to  the  Ohio,  against  brigadier 
general  Forbes  ;  and  for  the  subsistence  of  M. 
de  Levy  and  his  troops,  on  their  expedition  on 
the  Mohawk  river.  In  addition  to  all  the  mili- 
tary stores  and  provisions  there  was  also  an  im- 
mense quantity  of  merchandize,  for  the  purpose 
of  trade  with  the  Indians,  and  to  supply  tlieir 
own  forts  and  settlements.  Besides  the  forts 
and  stores.  Brad  street  made  himself  master  of 
all  the  enemy's  shipping  on  the  lakes  ;  these  a- 
mountcd  to  nine  armed  vessels,  some  of  which 
carried  eighteen  guns.  Having  carried  the  fort 
without  any  loss  of  men,  Bradstreet,  in  confor- 
mity to  the   general's  orders,  destroyed  the 


\^ 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       415 


»    1 1 


lispntclicd 
n>    chiefly 
by  land  to 
;:ed  thence 
d  for  the 
brt  Fron- 
ice  or  ex- 
oorly  pre- 
iisisted  of 
a  few  In- 
in  surren- 
ras  not  of 
n  account 
)torcs  and 
ity  pieces 
Jantity  of 
i'V  hat  was 
^sions  was 
;cd  at  Ca- 
garrisons, 
icJi  troojDs 
brigadier 
ice  of  M. 
dition  on 
the  mili- 
50  an  Jm- 
'  purpose 
ply  tlieir 
the  forts 
naster  of 
these  a- 
of  which 
I  the  fort 
confor- 
yed  the 


worljs,  with  all  the  majj^azines  and  stores  ;  and 
inimediutcly  returned  vvith  his  men  to  Oswego, 
taking  with  him  two  of  the  enemy's  vessels.* 

NoTHiN*  had  yet  been  done  upon  the  lakes, 
during  the  wh(;le  course  of  the  war,  which  had 
so  much  aftected  the  French  interest  as  this  ex- 
ploit of  colonel  Bradstreet  at  Cadaraqui.  Fort 
Frontenac,  by  its  situation,  had  the  entire  com- 
mand of  the  origin  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence. 
It  was  the  grand  magazine  of  military  stores 
and  provisions,  for  ail  their  western  posts  and 
settlements,  and  for  their  Indian  allies  ;  it  com- 
manded the  passage  into  all  the  western  lakes, 
and  was  the  grand  emporium,  where  all  the  sav- 
age nations  collected  to  transact  their  business 
of  trade,  and  to  consult  v/ith  the  FreuiJi  on  the 
aiTairs  of  war.  The  unexpected  and  total  de- 
struction of  this  place  not  only  alarmed  and  sur- 
prised the  French,  but  it  carried  dismay  and 
terror  to  their  Indian  allies  ;  who  had  never  seen 
such  a  sudden  and  extensive  destruction,  carried 

•  Colonel  Bradttreat'*  Letter  to  Osnertl  Amherft,  <hi  tke  reduction  of 

Fort  Frontenac. 

OawcfO,  Auguft  31,  I7j8. 
I  landed  r/ith  the  troops  wiebtn  a  mile  of  fort  Frontenac  without  oji- 
position,  the  lith.  The  garriion  turrcodcrcd  prisoner*  of  war  the  a 7th, 
between  7  and  8  in  the  morniojr — It  was  a  square  fort  of  ino  yaidSjthe  et- 
terior  tide,  and  had  in  it  i  lo  men,  some  women,  children,  and  Indians,  60 
pieces  of  cannom,  (half  of  which  were  niownted)  sixti;en  small  mortars, 
withanimnaeasequantitf  of  provisions  and  goods,  to  be  sent  to  the  troops 
gone  to  oppose  Brig. Gen.  Forbes,  their  Ntestcm  garrisons,  Indians,  and 
to  Mipport  the  army  under  the  command  of  M.  Levy,  on  his  intended  en- 
terprise u^inst  the  Moiiawk  river,  valued  by  the  French  at  800,000  livrcs. 
We  have  likewise  taken  9  vessels,  from  8  to  18  ^ans,  which  arc  all  they 
have  upon  the  lake,  two  of  which  I  kavebroujhthere;  one  rjchly  laden; 
and  the  rest  and  the  provisions  1  have  bunil  and  lu-struycd,  together  with 
the  fort,  artillery,  stores,  &c.  agreeable  to  you"-  excellency's  instructions, 
should  1  succeed.  I'he  garrison  made  no  scruple  of  saying,  that  their 
troops  to  the  southward  and  western  garrisons  will  suffer  greatly,  if  not 
entirelystarvcforwantof  the  provisions  and  YCbsels  we  h»ve  destroyed, 
as  they  have  not  any  left  to  brin^  them  hi>n«e  from  Niagara.  The  terms 
on  which  the  garrison  surrendered  wcreprisoocrs  of  w^,  until  cichanged 
fur  tqual  numi;>cr»uid  rwk. 


)'!  ,  I  '1  i  I. 

!\  I      1  '■ 


^'  It 


M   ,  t) 


^^^i 


i       ;'  (I    ' 


.H  - 


1 

■ 
1  ]■ 

1 

1 

' 

I  \ 


'  f 


r- 


H 

:        / 

1 

1 

•    * 

> 

6 

1 

i 


416 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


W'ilh  sucli  secrecy  and  diiipatch,  into  the  French 
country. 

The  success  of  Bradstrect  at  Cadaraqui,  was 
not  without  its  eiTcct  on  the  fvclin2S  and  move- 
ments  of  the  Indians,  on  the  Ohio.     In  the  be- 
girining  of  July,  luij^-adier  general  Forbes  began 
hismarch  from  PhiL.deijjhia,  for  fort  Du  Quesnc. 
The  fort  stood  on  the  confluence  of  the  Monon- 
gahala  with  the  Ohio  river.    V/ith  incredible  dif- 
iieulties,  throug'n  a  vah,t  tract  of  country,  but  iitde 
known,     widiout    roads,    through    unexplored 
mountains,  morasses  and  woods,  he  liud  pene- 
trated widi  tJiC  main  body  as  fir  as  Rays-town, 
at  the   disLimcc  of  innety   miles  from  fort  Du 
Quesne.  ,    He   had  sent  on    colonel    Piouquet, 
with  two  thousand  men,  fifty  miles  further,  to  a 
place  called   Lyal  llciniing.     Bouquet   had  dc% 
tached  major  ('ir.nt,  at  the  liead  of  eight  hundred 
men,  to  reconnoitre  ilie  fort  and  works  at  the 
Ohio.    The  enemy  having  intelligence  oi  Grant's 
approach,  sent  forward  a  much  larger   body  to 
intercept  and  surround  him.     A  severe  action 
took  place,   which  the   English  supported  w'nh 
much   cowrapc  and  rcsoli'.iion  for  three  hours, 
but  at  knt'-lh   were  oi/na-ed  to  vield  to  the  su- 
pf  rior  numbers  of  the  enemy.     Three  hundred 
%vere    killed  or   taken    by    the    en<  m}',    among 
whom  was  major  Grant,  the   comn) under  ;  he, 
and  nineteen  of  Ins  oiiicers  Vv'cre  carried  prison-^ 
ers  to  fort  Du  Quesne  ;  the  rcmamder  of  his 
troops    fought   their    \Miy    back    to     Bouquet. 
Forbes  was  not   dismayed  by   this  "mortifying 
check,  but  still  advanced  ^vith  much   caution, 
and  a  steady  perseverance.     'I'he  enemy  having 
vatchcd  his  motions,  and  observed  the  circum- 


I''  I  ^:  m 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        il7 


spcction  tiud 
mid  event 


\. 


-  :v 


r,  \vith  ^v]lich  he  made  his 
kd  Y'jit  to  abide  the  hazard 
■i"  ,iti<:;  \,{\z  disr.uintk'd  and  aban- 
doned  the  it;'. i,  and  ittircd  down  llie  Ohio,  to 
their  scttleviie]:.ts  on  the  Missis.ippi.  On  tlic 
twenty  Iburtli  oi  ^^'ovenibcrthtr  quitted  the  fort 
and  tlie  next  day  it  vviis  taken  pessession  of  l)y 
the  British  a;ui}'.  ^Ia^•in}^  repaired  the  works, 
Forbes  cliangxd  the  ''  ne  of  the  Ibrt  from  l)u 
Quesne,  to  tha  of  .»  'sburg,  wliich  ■  still 
bears.* 

Such  were  the  events  of  the  campaign  of 

1758.      The  expeditions  against  Loiiisbourg', 

Forts  Frontenae  and  Dii  Quesnc,  had  eonipltat- 

ly  succeeded.     That  against    rieonderoga  had 

failed.     The  events  of  the  campaign  had  been 

nmch  in  favor  of  the  British  interest  ;  and  the 

r,(!viiJitages  that  had   been   obtained   over   the 

French,  gave  flattering  hopes  and  prospects  that 

tl.cy  might  be  pursued  to  much  gicater  advan- 

ti)ge,  in  the  course  of  another  year.     General 

Amherst  had  now  assumed  the  command,  and 

the  jjublic  expectation  and   feeling  were  ready 

to  afford   any   assistance  that  he    should  ask. 

This  general  was  already  preparing  for  the  next 

campaign.     Soon  after  he  had  compleated  the 

conquest   of  Cape   Breton  he  received   ir.tclli- 

gencc  of  the  defeat  of  Abercron:bie  at   Ticon- 

dcroga.     Leaving  a  strong  giirrison  at  Louis-- 

bourg,  he  embarked  with  six  regiments,   and 

laiMltd  at  Boston.     About  the   middle  of  Scp- 

tembei-,  he  began  his  march  for  Albany,  to  join 

the  troops  at  the  lake  ;  to  attempt  any  further 

enterprise,   or  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  next 

campaign,    as    the    season  and    circumstances 

should  permit. 

•  Sinollet's  Hist.  England,  Vol.  3,  p.j^^t. 


Jl; 


!     4 


V 


1^ 


J:  '•I'M 


».       It 


■   ,, 


^m 


hn|i 


i!  ^^ 

'i  % 

i  I! 


^liii 


413         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

CHAPTER    XIIL 

War.  PrDf'Tcs.^  and  events  of  the  wo?-  in  thr. 
yean  1759  and  1760.  Plan  of  the  eampaivir 
for  1759.  Cjnqiier^t  of  Quebec  by  ^vmrui 
IVolfe.  Capture,  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown 
Pohit  by  genen/l  Amherst,  Exprdii'lnn  a- 
gaiist  the  Indian  villnc-e  of  St.  Franeols  Inf 
major  Po^^ers.  Proeeexling.f  on  lake  Cham 
plain.  Capture  of  Niagara  by  General  John- 
son. Refections  on  the  campaign  of  17 !')9. 
Measiirr.'i  of  Vaudrieul  at  Montreal  in  17G0. 
Plan  and  proceedings  of  general  Amherst. 
General  Murrafs  dfeat  at  Quebec^  and  arri- 
val at  Montreal.  ILiviland's  arrival  at  t/itr 
river  St.  Lawrence.  Capitulation  and  surren- 
der of  Canada  to  general  .inihcrst.  Prfcc- 
tions  on  the  origin  of  these  zvars.  Their  ef- 
fects on  the  morals^  literutur^,  populaiicu,  set- 
tlement and  political  state  of  the  colonics. 

1759.     FROM  the  ad^^nntasrw  that  had 
been   already  obtained   over   the   French,  the 
British  ministry  had  l^ecn  lead  to  expect  tlv.it 
the  compleat  conquest  of  Cunada  niii^ht  he  ef- 
fected in  aix)ther    carT>])nis^ii  ;    ii'  tlv.lr  troops] 
^vere  employed  so  as  to  divide  tlie  enemy's  for- 
ces, and  to  make  their  impressions  on  difierent| 
parts  of  the  country  at  the  same  time.    In  pur- 
suance of  this  plan  the  Britidi  minister,  PnT,| 
had  projected  three  expeditions  againbt  Canuda. 
General   Wolfe,  who  lixd  been  so  much  distin- 
guished in  the  aiesre  of  Louisbour-j,  was  to  pro- 
ceed up   the  river  St.  Lawrence  with  a  body  ofl 
tight  thousand  men,  as  soon  as  the  river  shoulli 


■>    ' 


(.''■  ,! 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        411^ 

be  clear  of  ice,  and  Iny  siege  to  Quebec,  the 
capital  of  Canada,  General  Amherst,  w  ho  was 
conirtir.nder  in  chief,  was  to  proceed  with  an 
army  of  n  gul^r  troe^ps,  and  provincials,  anionnt- 
iucj  to  twelve  thousand;  and  attempt  ih'."  reduc- 
tion of  I'icoaderoga  and  Crown  Point,  r.i  cl 
thence  proceed  dirov^j^h  lake  Champlain  and  the 
river  Sore!,  to  the  a.ssibtancc  of  Wolfe.  At  the 
s-jnie  time  brii^:idier  general  Prideaux  with  a 
third  Ijody,  reinforced  by  the  Indians  under  the 
iniluence  and  command  of  sir  \\illiam  Johnson, 
v.t:s  to  invest  the  French  fort  at  Ni.igara,  and 
er.dcavor  to  reduce  that  important  fonress.  It 
was  concluded,  that  while  all  these  forces  were 
making  their  attacks  in  difterent  directions,  they 
wonld  all  serve  to  assist  each  other  ;  and  at  t'.,, 
same  time  to  divide  tlie  forces,  and  embarrass 
the  councils  of  the  enemyo 

The  pLiii  itself  was  marked  with  the  encrg^y 
and  boldness  of  the  minister's  genius.  The 
navigation  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence  had  ever 
been  viewed  as  very  difficult  and  danpxrous  for 
a  fleet.  The  city  of  Quebec  was  strongly  forti- 
fied by  nature  and  art,  formidable  on  account  of 
the  number  and  bravery  of  its  inhabitants,  and 
ia  a  situation  in  which  it  could  not  be  much  in- 
jured by  a  fleet,  or  approached  but  by  a  strong 
army  by  land.  The  marquis  de  Montcalm  was 
a  general  of  much  courage,  activity,  and  expe- 
rience ;  already  famous  for  his  exploits,  and 
success  apLiinst  the  Ensrlish.  This  officer  had 
taken  his  situation  between  Quebec  and  Mon- 
treal, with  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  con- 
sisting of  regular  troops,  and  well  disciplined 
militia,  reinforced  by  u  large  number  of  armed 


/'  I 


■  « I*  M  ' 


If 


\yi: 


I 


'\ 


'  ip 


I 


■iliili 


lir< 


h  '1 


;.  I' 


•li! 


ml 


ft 


i  i  11 


420 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Indians.  An  armv  of  reserve  hovered  round 
Montreal,  ilie  icbldencc  of  M.  dc  Vaiidricul, 
the  commander  in  chief,  and  {governor  gencial 
of  Canada.  The  fort  at  Niagara  was  well  built, 
and  fortified,  ai'.d  contained  a  [^.arrison  of  six 
hundred  men  ;  tlie  road  to  which,  was  long-, 
em'oairassed,  and  unexplored.  M.  dc  Levy 
was  also  at  the  head  of  a  flying  detacb.ment,  ac- 
quainted with  tlie  woods  and  passes,  scouriiig 
the  country  in  all  directions  ;  and  augmented 
by  new  recruits,  as  occasions  and  circumstances 
required.  And  every  precedi:ig  attempt  had 
shet  n  the  dililcult}',  the  danger,  and  the  ill  suc- 
cess, of  an  expedition  against  Quebec,  or  Ti- 
conderoga.  Aware  of  tliese  dlfiiculties,  but  ani- 
mated by  the  genius  of  Mr.  Pitt,  the  British 
colonies  and  troops  entered  with  energy  and 
zeal  upon  measures,  that  ratlier  bore  the  ap-^ 
pearance  of  danger  and  defeat,  than  of  probabil- 
ity and  success. 

The  most  difllcult  part  of  the  business,  and 
the  great  object  to  which  all  the  other  opera- 
tions of  the  campaign  were  subordinate,  was  the 
conquest  of  Quebec.  This  expedition  had  been 
committed  to  the  care  of  major  general  Wolfe  ; 
a  younc:  oi;icer  of  sj-reat  enterorise  and  resolution, 
and  of  a  superior  military  genius.  He  was  as- 
sisted by  tlie  brigadier  generals,  Monckton, 
Townshend,  and  Muj-ray  ;  officers  of  distinction, 
family,  and  much  experience,  though  yet  in 
early  life.  The  squadron  designed  for  the  ser^ 
vice  was  put  under  the  command  of  Admirals 
Sanders  and  Hohiies,  who  h;id  on  several  occa- 
sions before  sic^nalizcd  their  couraq:e  and  con- 
duct  in  the  service  of  their  countrv.     The  iieet 


\V.' 


^riSTORY  OF  VERMONT.        42V 


I  '     ! 


■! 


bailed  from  Englimd  about  the  middle  of  Feb- 
r'l.iry,  and  wjs  h\  'iight  of  Louisbour^^  so  eurly 
as  t!^.t  twenty  first  of  April  ;  but  the  hurbor 
hln^-  blo.;ked  up  with  ice,  the  fleet  bore  away 
for  iiaiif  !>;.  As  soon  as  the  season  would  per- 
mit, the  troops  were  embarked,  and  the  fleet 
s  il(.d  up  the  river  St.  Lnvrence,  without  mcet- 
i>ii;-  wi^^^h  u'ly  oi' those  dilficulties  or  perils,  which 
tivjy  h.td  bt'cn  tauj^ht  to  expect.  Towards  the 
Icttlvr  end  of  June,  the  whole  army  was  safely 
landed  oa  the  i;-,Ic  oi"  Orleans,  a  little  below  Que- 
bec:, wichoijf  any  ciiposition,  or  having  met  with 
any  di^M^ter. 

From  that  time  till  the  bec^innini^ of  Scptem- 
b'.r,  yr,y  uerul  VVolle  was  strumming  vvitiiout  pros- 
pect ot'  success,  as^;iinst  every  kind  of  difficulty, 
ill  an  eneniy's  country,  against  a  city  strongly 
fort  hit  d  by  nature  and  art,  defended  by  an  army 
more  numerous  than  his  own,  commanded  by 
Mjiitc  aim,  wliohe  niiiitary  talents  and  exploits 
had  alnady  rtndc ved  liini  famous  and  formida- 
ble to  the  Britijh  eoloiues  and  generals.  In 
addition  to  oilier  difuUities  he  had  received  a 
S'vere  check,  and  loiit  above  five  hundred  of 
his  men,  iu  an  attack  which  he  made  on  the 
enemy  at  the  i'alls  of  M  )atmorenci.  A  fever  and 
a  dysentary  wjtc  wasting  his  own  strength,  and 
for  a  time  he  became  unable  to  attend  to  busi- 
ne  is. 

Almost  deso'.irins'  of  success,  it  was  the 
opiiio  1  of  his  general  Oui  :ers  th  )t  there  was  no 
pro.sp'Ct  of  s  icceeding,  unless  they  could  carry 
t  e  troops  above  ihe  town,  eiTeet  a  kiU'jiiig  oa 
t  le  n:)rt:i  shore,  and  bring  the  ene;riy,  if  possi- 
b  ie,  to  n  general  enL-'  igemcii...  \V  oiiv;  auo^>ie4 
VOL.    I.  i)  ^ 


l!    I 


fU   .1 


II 


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11. 


i 


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11   i. 


422         NATURAL^ND  CIVIL    , 

the  opinion  as  a  matter  of  extremity  and  nerri- 
sity,  unci  bt^an  the  measures  that  were  n  -ct's. 
sary  to  r^irry  it  into  execution.  After  a  scries 
of  the  most  uncommon  difficulties,  and  JMdicious 
manoeuvres,  by  the  most  dexterous  ucklress,  and 
well  concerted  movements,  he  succeeded  in  cf- 
fecting  a  landing  near  Sillary  on  the  twelfth  of 
September,  an  hour  after  midaiglit.  Wo! lb 
himself  was  with  the  first  party  that  landed  ; 
and  in  an  instant  all  was  activity,  enterpiise, 
and  exi)edition.  The  troops  diat  were  fir^t 
landed,  climbed  up  the  bank  and  precipice,  by 
the  bushes  and  bouf^hs  of  trees,  with  the  most 
animated  agility  and  pesolution  ;  they  dispersed 
a  captain's  guard  who  were  placed  there  to  de- 
fend the  narrow  path  of  ascent,  and  i^iined  the 
summit  without  any  further  moIest:vti()n  IYoai 
the  enemy.  Wolfe  climbed  up  amoiii^  t'le  rest ; 
and  as  soon  %s  he  had  ascended  the  banks,  d.ew 
up  his  troops  in  order  as  fast  as  tlj^y  an  ived. 

Montcalm  was  no  sooner  iiif  )rm(d  ih;it  tlic 
British  troops  had  gained  the  heicdits  of  Abia- 
ham,  which  in  a  manner  eointviind-  d  t!ie  tonn 
in  its  weakest  part,  tIr-iM  he  rebuUed  to  hjzwd 
a  batde,  and  havinj^  collected  his  v.'hole  force 
from  the  side  of  Beiuport,  beg-nu  his  miii'  h 
without  delay.  Both  armies  were  soon  diavvn 
up  in  order  of  battle,  with  their  respective  gen- 
erals at  their  h;  ad.  W'-nfe  h'<u.l  placed  himself 
on  the  right  of  the  Eng'ir^h  ;  MoMtcalm  was  o.i 
the  left  of  the  Frejich  army  :  Tlr^s  the  two 
generals,  rivah  wort'iy  of  each  other,  met  at  the 
head  of  their  respeeti-e  arn":iei-;,  wheve  the  con- 
fiict  was  the  nio-it  severe.  About  r.i:ie  o'clock 
tlie   French  army  advanced  to  the  charge  in 


I 


\.\ 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.       423 


i^nod  order,  nnd  with  vivacity  ;  but  with  an  ir- 
regular  and  not  well  directed  fire.  The  British 
rcbci  vtd  ilicir  tire,  till  the  enemy  had  approach- 
ed V,  it'hin  ibrty  yards  of  their  line  ;  then  they 
poured  in  a  tcnible  discharge,  and  kept  up  their 
lire  v.iih  j^reat  deliberation  and  spirit.  The 
contest  tor  a  i'cw  moments  was  dreadful  ;  both 
f^encrals  were  determined  to  conquer  or  die  ; 
and  tiK'ir  armies  knew  that  on  the  event  of  an 
hour,  tde  fate  of  Quebec  depended.  The  French 
were  unable  to  stand  the  impetuosity  and  fire  of 
the  British  but  for  a  short  time  ;  and  the  battle 
yoon  teiminuled  in  the  entire  defeat  and  disper- 
sion of  tlic  French  army.  Wolfe*  and  Mont- 
c:tlm*  botli  fell  at  the  head  of  their  troops,  and 
the  British  were  left  complcatly  musters  oi  the 
field,  under  briy;adier  general  Tovvnshend.  Five 
hundred  of  the  enemy  were  slain  on  the  fie'd  of 
battle,  and  about  one  diousand  were  mad:  p;  is- 
onc.»  ;  of  the  British,  fifty  men  were  killed,  in- 
cluding nine  ofiicers,  and  as  many  as  five  hun- 
dred were  wounded.  Dispirited  by  the  event, 
and  dishc.irtened  by  the  loss  of  tl\eir  able  and 
favorite  ji;en^ral  Montcalm,  the  French  were  in 
jijreat  consttrnation ;  and  on  September  the 
eighteenth,  i)e  U.imsay,  the  ollicer  on  whom 
the  command  had  devolved,  signed  articles  of 
cr.pituKition,  and  surrendered  tl  ^  troops  and  the 
city  to  admiral  Sanders  and  getiu.  u  Townshcnd. 
'J'hus  was  effected  the  conquest  of  the  city  of 
Quebec.  For  seventy  yenrs  the  English  had 
been  attempting  to  reduce  this  place.  The  force 
that  was  sent  against  it  m  the  year   1711,  was 

•  Appemlix,  No.  VIII. 


Jl 


'    Ml 


|] 


424 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


] 


fully  equal  to  that  which  was  now  before  it. 
The  force  that  Wolfe  commanded  did  not  ap- 
pear adequate  to  its  reduction,  and  it  v.  as  defen- 
ded by  the  greatest  general  the  French  hud  ever 
employed  in  Canada.  The  genius  of  Woife 
succeeded  in  defeating  their  general,  and  sub- 
duing their    npital. 

While  these  scenes  were  taking  place  at 
Quebec,  general  Amherst  had  no  information  of 
the  proceedings  in  that  quarter,  hut  was  busily 
employed  in  j)ushing  forward  the  expedition  on 
lake  Champlain.  So  many  difiiculties  occurred 
to  retard  the  operations  of  his  army  in  that  un- 
settled part  of  the  country,  that  the  summer  wiis 
already  far  advanced,  before  lie  could  pass  lake 
George  with  his  troops  and  artillery.  Aware 
of  the  danger  of  surprise,  and  not  unmindlul  of 
the  disaster  that  tiie  British  troops  had  sustained 
the  year  l:)iefore,  this  able  and  judicious  ofiicer 
proceeded  with  the  greatest  circumsptction  ; 
leaving  nothing  to  eliance,  but  making  provi- 
sion for  every  difiiciilt)%  or  opposition,  that 
could  be  foreseen.  At  lengtli,  in  the  latter  end 
of  July,  he  anivcd  in  the  vicinity  of  Ticondero- 
ga,  with  his  army  of  regulars  and  provincials,  in 
excellent  order,  and  amply  sup];lied  with  ar- 
tillery, military  stores,  imd  provisions.  The 
enemy  had  wi'.tched  all  his  motions,  and  been 
very  attentive  to  find  an  opportunity  to  gain  some 
advantr.,'T:e  ;  but  they  had  not  ventured  to  make 
an}'"  opposition  to  Ms  troops,  eitlicr  when  pas- 
sing the  lake,  or  eft'ecting  their  landing.  Having 
passed  the  lake  and  landed  his  stores,  Amherst 
immediately  began  to  make  preparation  to  re- 
duce the  lortiess  by  a  rtguiai"  jjiege.     At  first 


\\a 


HISTORY  OF    VERMONT.      425 


the  enemy  appeared  to  be  resolute  to  hold  their 
works,   and  to  make  a  regular  defence.     They 
soon  found  thai  they  had  an  able  ofticer  to  op- 
pose ;    that   Amherst   was  cautious,  resolute, 
well  prepared  for  undertaking  the  siege,  and  not 
disposed  to  subject  any  thing  to  unnecessary 
risk  or  hazard,     Despuiring  of  success  l)y  any 
surprise,  or  extraordininy  exertions,  and  having 
orders  to  retreat  from  place  to  place  towards 
the  centre  of  operations  at  Quebec,  rather  tl-»aii 
to  run  the  risk  of  diminishing  the  French  force 
by  surrendering  prisoners  of  war,  thej-  set  about 
dismantling  the  fortifications  ;  and  having  done 
some  small  injuries  to  the  works,  they  abandcr^- 
cd  ihem  on  the  night  of  the  twciity  seventh  of 
July,  and  repaired  to  Crown   Point ;    leaving 
their  heavy  artillery,  several  sunken  boats,  and 
the  works  but  little  damaged  though  on  fire. 
The  same  day,  Amherst  took  possession,  and 
encamped  within  the  French  lines.     This  im- 
portant acquisition  was  effected  without  much 
opposition  or  bloodshed  :  It  was  however  mark- 
ed with  the  loss  of  colonel  Roger  Townshend,  a 
very  accomplished  young  officer,  w^lio  was  kilkd 
by  a  cannon  ball  as  he  was  reconnoitering  the 
fort.     This  young  nobleman  much  resembled 
the  gallant  lord  Howe,  in  the  circumstances  of 
birth,  age,  character,  and  useful   qualifications. 
He  fell  near  the  same  spot,  w  here  that  young 
hero  was  slain  the  year  before. 

Having  succeeded  in  his  attempts  against 
Ticonderoga,  Amherst  began  to  repair  and  en- 
large the  fortifications  ;  and  to  prepare  his  bat- 
ttaux  and  other  vessels  for  an  expedition  a- 
gainst   Crown   Point.     Scouting   iuid  raRgin;j 


I     ■! 


/     • 


I      \ 


-  1 

1;     'i 

1, 

J 


« 


fi. 


426 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


i 


I! 


jn^ies  were  constantly  employed,  hoverinj^  in 
th.^  iicii^lii)orhood  of  that  [?Iace,  and  watching 
a))  the  measures  and  moiions  of  the  cneinv. 
One  of  tliese  parties  rclurr.ed  to  the  English 
c-\!rjp  oil  Aus?;iist  the  first,  and  broiu^ht  iMteilj- 
geiice  thut  the  Freiich  hnd  also  abandoned 
Cit^'.vn  Point,  and  were  .q-onc  down  the  lake, 
witliont  debtrovini^'  the  v.orks.  Amherst  cle- 
taclicd  u  body  of  ran^t^er-i  to  t-ike  possession  of 
the  place  ;  'aud  on  the  fonrlb  of  Aue^ust  em- 
barked with  Ills  arm}',  landed  the  sanrie  day,  and 
pl:ccd  his  troops  »vithin  the  enemy'si  works. 
'I'hns  was  cfiected  the  reduction  of  Ticondero- 
ga  and  Crown  Point.  From  the  time  of  their 
first  erection  they  had  .i^iven  security  to  the  in, 
roads  of  the  cnerv.y,  afford-^d  an  asylum  to  tiie 
scalj^ing-  piu  tics  that  had  infei>ted  the  frontiers  of 
the  whoie  country,  and  cost  the  British  colonies 
immeiise  sums  of  money  and  rnjuy  thousands 
of  her  eiilzens.  Thev  now  ilil  b-^^  the  atuck 
that  Wolfe  was  mahir.Ej  upon  Quebec,  and  (:y 
the  Cviiition  and  resolution  that  Amherst  dis- 
plnyed  in  the  approach  and  manoeuvres  of  his 
army.  .  No  sooner  was  their  conquest  cori:- 
pleated  than  Amherst  superiiitendtd  the  works, 
strengthened  and  enlarged  the  old  ones,  atid  fjc- 
gan  a  new  fort  ;  meanlnp'  to  make  clfectual 
provisiof!  that  the  enemy  ji'.ould  never  agua 
obtain  possession  of  a  post,  wliich  had  been  so 
danecroufj  and  distressing!:  to  the  British  provin- 
Ces. 

The  French  troops,  after  tlic  evacuation  of 
Crown  Point,  retired  to  the  Isle  Aux  Noix. 
This  island  is  at  tlie  north  end  of  lake  Cham- 
plain,  about  five  leagues  to  the  soutli  of  St* 


« 


'    I  ;'     .n 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      4.2Y 

Johns  ;  and  being  situated  in  the  midst  of  th« 
sTreum,  cftcctually  commandii  tlie  passarj^e  into 
Ciiti.id.i,  in  that  quarter.  At  this  place,  M.  de 
Bl]  iem.'.gnc  hud  collected  a  force  consisting'  of 
three  battalions,  and  fi\*e  piquets  of  r.guiar  f roups 
and  a  body  of  Canadians  and  nunines,  aii-.(\ant- 
int*  in  the  whole  to  three  ihoiisui.d  and  fivt.  luui- 
dred  men  ;  provided  with  a  nuintrous  artilU  tj-^ 
and  ever}-  requii^ite  for  defence.  'J  lie  lake  was 
defended  by  four  la/ge  vessels,  n-.oi?nted  wiih 
cannon,  and  manned  with  picjUets  from  diPerent 
K-ginients  ;  under  the  command  of  M.  le  Br.;ss, 
a  captain  in  tiie  French  navy,  assisted  by  M.  de 
RjL^cl,  and  other  sei«  oiiicers.  With  tiiis  force, 
M.  dc  Burlemagne  ciKampcd  andforlifkd  at  the 
Isle  Aux  Noix  ;  meai\ing  to  mikc  a  stand  a- 
giiinst  the  British  forces.  And  Amherst  could 
not  proceed  dovvr  the  lake  till  he  h  .d  construf  t- 
ed  a  navui  force  superior  to  that  of  the  FrciK^h."^ 

Jw  the  mean  time  it  was  tliong-ht  best  to  m;!ke 
the  enemj^  feel  the  force  and  resentment  of  the 
Knslish  colonies.  The  Indians  had  not  as  yet 
discontinued  their  attempts  to  disturb  and  dis- 
tress  the/ftintlers.  Amon.f^  these  tribes  none 
h;id  been  mere  b'oody  and  cruci  than  that  of  St* 
Francois.  Thiir  villafTre  was  situated  on  the 
soudi  side  or  iiie  river  St.  Lawrence,  not  far 
from  Trois  Rivieres.  So  early  as  the  year  1703, 
the  [governor  of  Canada  had  drawn  off  a  lurge 
number  of  Indians  from  Penol  jscot,  Norrige- 
wo;".k,  Saco,  Pij^wackct,  and  odier  parts  of  the 
c:i',tf rn  country  and  settled  them  at  Becancour 
and  St.  Fraiicois.  By  uniting  thtm  vviiu  the  lii- 

*  SmoHcti  Hist.  Enjland,  Vol. 3,  p.  47o. 


.11 


'    I  '"  1 


I  , 


I. 

I 
t 

1     y\ 
I     •- 


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1  ' 

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) 


■'!» 


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42S 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


dians  of  Canada,  he  meant  to  procure  a  force  suf- 
ficient to  protect  their  own  frontiers  ;  and  to 
have  always  in  reserve,  a  body  of  savages  well 
acquainted  with  the  English  frontiers,  and  the 
most  favourable  times  and  places  of  carrying 
desolation  among  them."^  The  event  justified 
his  expectations.  From  none  of  the  Indian 
tribes  had  the  provinces  of  New-Hampshire  and 
Massachusetts  suffered  so  much,  as  from  the 
savages  of  this  village  and  tribe*  They  made 
their  incursions  through  the  river  St.  Francois 
to  lake  Memphremugog,  and  from  thence  down 
Connecticut  river  to  the  English  settlements ; 
and  had  been  much  distinguished  by  theslaugh- 
ter  and  destruction  they  had  spread  among  the 
advanced  settlements,  by  the  number  of  their 
scalps  and  captives,  and  by  the  enormity  of  their 
cruelty  and  barbarity^ 

Major  Rogers  was  appointed  by  general  Am- 
herst, to  manage  an  excursion  against  this  bar- 
barous tribe  and  to  carry  the  horrors  of  war  iiito 
the  midst  of  Canada.  Roarers  was  fiom  the 
province  of  New-Hampshire.  He  commanded 
a  company  so  early  as  the  year  1755  ;  and  had 
become  so  famous  fo^  the  number,  boldness  and 
success  of  his  enterprises,  that  lord  Loudon  h.d 
set  him  at  the  head  of  the  ranging  conipanit-s, 
put  him  upon  the  British  ciitabhshmentandpay, 
till  he  rose  to  the  rank  of  a  major.  Ainhn-bt 
esteemed  him  a  proper  person  to  retaliate  on  ua 
Indian  viliau:e,  some  of  the  mcnsuies  thiv  hid 
so  oiten  acted,  against  the  adv.mced  Kui^iisa 
forts  and  settlements.     The  oid^rs  which  he 

*  liatcliltiton'*  HUt.  i.IaisacIiuacttVf  Vol.  2,  p.  i;i. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       429 


r  ii  I 


^five  to  Rogers,  were  expressive  of  the  charac- 
ter and  views  of  the  English  general ;  and  of 
the  sentiments  and  feelings  of  the  English  colo- 
nies, with  respect  to  the  Indian  cruelties.* 

In  conformity  to  his  orders,  Rogers  set  out 
with  two  hundred  men  in  batteaux,  and  prc^eed- 
ed  down  kike  Chamjilain.  On  the  fifth  day  af- 
ter they  left  Crown  Point,  they  met  with  a  mis- 
fortune which  diminished^their  numbers.  Being 
encamped  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  a  keg 
of  gun  powder  accidentally  took  fire,  which  in 
its  explosion  uounded  a  captain  of  the  royal  re- 
giment, and  several  of  the  men.  These  were 
sent  back  to  Crown  Point,  with  some  of  the 
party  to  conduct  them  ;  by  this  event  the  party 
was  reduced  to  one  hundred  and  forty  two  men, 
ofHcers  included.  With  this  reduced  party,  the 
major  proceeded  on  the  expedition,  and  in  seven 
days  landed  at  Missiscoe  bay.  Here  he  con- 
cealed his  boats  among  the  bushes  that  hung 
over  one  of  the  streams,  and  left  in  them  provi- 
sions sufficient  to  carry  tliem  back  to  Crown 


.    ;!l 


"      i 


^!/ 


•   "  Orders  from  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  to  major  Rogers. 
••  You  are  this  niplit  la  ict  out  with  the  detachment  as  ordered  yesterday, 
•(viz.  of  tv/o  hundred   m?«i)   and    proceed  to   Missiscoe  Bay,    froiu 

*  whence  you  will  ra-i\.h  and  attack  the  enemy's  lettlcsients  on  the  soutk 
'c*'ie  of  the  river  f!t.  I.ciwrcncj,  in  such  a  manner  as  you  shall  judge 

*  most  efFfCtu'il  to  disijii-e  the  enemy,  and  for  *he  success  and  honor  ofi 
'  his  Majesty's  arms, 

"  Rememher  the  hiabaritlcs  that  have  teen  committed  by  the  enemy'* 
■•  IndianscoraaJrcl:.,  en  every  occasion  where  they  have  had  an  opportunity 
'  of  showing  their  int^nftous  crutltic".  on  the  King's  lubjcdls;  which  they 
"•  have  done  without  mercf,  luLeyour  revenge  ;  but  do  not  forget  tha6 
'though  tli'ise  viiiai'.is  have  dait.^idly  and  promiscususly  murdered tha. 

*  women  and  ('hildreii  oi  all  crders,  it  is  my  orders  that  no  womeno^chiI• 
•  drcii  be  liilled  or  hurt. 

"Wtte«youhavecxccuted  yourintenusd  serTice,you  will  return  with 
*yourdet.ichmun:  t»caai;i,ortojcin  me  wherever  the  army  may  be. 

*  Youri,  &c. 

'   JFTFRST  AMHKiltT. 

♦  Camp  at  Crown-Poln':,  September  t;.,  1759.'' 
flimca'  Military  Diccia;;:.ry— -Ait.    Tiwfcveic. 

V(JL.     I.  E 


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>.  I 


a 


1  \ 


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I  if 


'         I  :     II,    4 


iih 


450 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


Point.  Two  of  liis  rangers  were  appointed  to 
watch  tlic  boats,  and  to  keep  themselves  con- 
eealed  till  the  party  should  return  ;  or  if  the  en- 
emy should  discover  the  boats,  to  pursue  the 
track  of  the  party  with  the  greatest  speed,  and 
give  intelligence  to  the  commander.  The  se- 
cond evening  after  Rogers  left  the  hviji  the  two 
trusty  rangers  overtook  the  party,  and  informed 
Rogers  that  four  hundred  French  and  Indians 
had  discovered  the  boats  and  sent  them  a\\  ny 
with  fifty  men  ;  and  that  the  remaifukr  wtre 
in  pursuit  of  the  English  party.  Rogers  kept 
tlie  intelligence  to  himself;  and  ordered  a  lieu- 
tenant, with  eight  men  and  these  two  rangers  to 
proceed  to  Crown  Point  ;  inform  tlie  general  of 
what  had  taken  place,  and  request  him  to  send 
provisions  to  Coos  (now  Newbury)  on  Con- 
necticut river,  by  which  he  meant  to  return. 

Nothing  now  remained  for  Rogers  but  to 
give  up  the  expedition,  or  to  outmarcli  his  pur# 
suers.  He  determined  on  the  latter,  and  push- 
ed forward  for  St.  Francois,  with  all  the  expe- 
dition that  was  possible.  On  the  fourth  of  Oc- 
tober, at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  he  came 
\.ithin  sight  of  the  town.  Ordering  his  men  to 
halt  and  refresh  themselves,  he  dressed  himself 
in  the  Indian  garb,  and  took  'with  him  two  In- 
dians v.ho  understood  the  language  of  the  St. 
Francois  tribe,  and  went  to  reconnoitre  the  town. 
He  found  the  Indians  engaged  in  a  grand  dance, 
and  \vithout  any  apprehension  of  danger.  At 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  returned  to  his 
detachmen.t,  and  marched  them  to  the  distance 
of  about  five  hundred  yards  from  the  town.  A- 
l^out  four  o'clock  the  Indians  broke  up  their 


VVa^ 


HISTORY   OF   VERMONT.      431 


I 

I   ( 


(lance  and  retired  to  rest.  Rogers  waited  till 
tlicy  were  asleep,  and  at  break  ot'day,  lie  posted 
Ills  men  in  the  most  favorable  situation  and  nuulc 
a  {general  assault.*  Compleatly  surprized,  the 
Indians  were  soon  subdued.  Some  ^vere 
killed  in  their  houses^  and  of  those  who  attemp- 
ted to  fl\',  manv  were  shot,  or  knocked  on  the 
head  by  those  who  were  placed  at  the  avenues. 
The  Indian  meth.od  of  slauditcr  and  destruction 
was  put  i(i  practice  on  this  occasion  ;  and  wher- 
ever the  Indians  were  found,  tlieirmen,  women 
and  children,  were  slain  witliout  distinction  and 
without  mercy.  The  ferocity  of  the  proceed- 
ings were  ah-eady  extremely  violent,  but  the 
prospects  which  appeared  at  the  rising  of  the 
sun,  could  not  but  add  new  force  and  irritation 
to  the  feelings  and  passions  of  the  assailants. 
As  the  light  appeared,  the  scalps  of  several  hun- 
dred of  their  countrymen  were  seen,  suspended 
on  poles,  and  waving  in  the  air.  These  trophies 
of  savage  cruelty  and  success  could  not  fail  to 
irritate  to  the  highest  degree,  the  passions  of  the 
]:iro\'incIal  soldiers  ;  they  meant  to  avenge  the 
l)lood  of  their  friends  and  relations,  and  they 
sp?.rcd  no  pains  to  make  an  end  of  the  village, 
and  of  all  that  they  could  find  of  its  inhabitants. 
The  village  conta'^ned  three  hundred  of  the  ene- 
my ;  two  hundred  were  killed  on  the  spot,  and 
tuxnty  taken  prisoners. 

The  town  appeared  to  have  been  in  a  very 
ilourishing  state.  The  houses  were  well  fur- 
nished, and  the  church  was  handsomely  adorned 
^vith  plate  ;  the  whole  village  had  been  enriched 

•  Sim**'  Pi<aiou3ry,  ilai 


,'l. 


;'     f 


,i 

T 


t 


:t 


432 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


I 


f' 


by'  the  scalps,  and  plunder,  taken  from  the 
Knglish.  Two  hundred  guineas  were  found  in 
money,  and  a  silver  image  weighing  ten  pounds; ; 
besides  a  large  quantity  of  wampum,  cloLithing, 
and  some  provisions.^  Collecting  the  pro^-i- 
cions,  and  such  articles  as  they  could  cnsily 
transport,  they  set  fire  to  the  town,  and  reduced 
it  to  a^hes.  At  seven  o'clock  in  the  morniiHjf 
the  aifair  was  complcatly  over  ;  Rogers  then 
©ssembled  his  men,  found  that  one  was  killed, 
and  six  slightly  wounded.  Having  refre&JK  d 
his  men  for  one  hour,  the  major  made  no  fuitiier 
delay  ;  but  set  out  on  his  return,  with  the  addi- 
tion  of  five  English  captives  whom  he  had  re- 
taken ;  leaving  the  inhabitants  slain,  and  the 
village  reduced  to  ashes. f 

To  avoid  his  pursuers,  Kogers  now  tcoh  a 
different  route,  and  marched  up  St.  Fri'iiccis 
river  ;  meaning  to  have  his  men  collect,  a^.d 
rendezvous  at  Coos,  on  Connecticut  river.  On 
their  marcii  they  were  harrassed  by  some  of  the 
enemy,  and  several  times  attacked  in  the  rear. 
In  these  rencounters  they  lost  seven  of  their 
men,  till  Rogers,  favored  by  the  dusk  of  the 
evening  formed  an  ambuscade  upon  his  own 
track,  and  fell  upon  the  enemy  where  the}'  least 
expected  it  ;  by  this  stroke,  he  put  an  end  to 
any  further  annoyance  from  the  enemy,  Fora- 
bout  ten  days  the  detachment  kept  together,  till 
they  had  passed  the  eastern  side  of  lake  Mcm- 
phremagog.  It  was  then  thought  best  to  icat- 
ter  into  smaller  parties,  and  make  the  best  of 
their  way  to  some  of  the  English  fa%ttkmcntSi 

•  Belknap's  Hi«t.  K«w  Hwnpshirc,  \tl.  i,  p.  ^04. 
t  Simnt.  ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        43« 


Their  siifTcilngs  now  bc,a;an  to  be  severe,  not 
only  from  tl'.e  cxccusivc  Ibtigiics  they  had  un- 
der^roiie,  but  IVom  hunger.  Their  provisions 
were  cxper.ded,  and  thxy  were  yet  at  a  distance 
from  any  piace  of  rciicf.  Some  were  lost  in  the 
woods,  and  others  peri':hcd  at  Coos,  being  un- 
able to  hold  out  any  f'lrtlier.*  But  Rogers, 
with  tlie  most  of  hh  rr.tu,  persevered  amidst  all 
their  sufferings,  till  they  arrived  at  Number 
Four,  now  Charlcstov.n.  Thij  enterprise  prov- 
ed extremely  dangerous  and  fatiguing  to  the 
men,  who  had  been  crigaged  in  it  ;  but  it  made 
a  deep  impression  on  the  enemy.  It  carried  a- 
larm  and  consternation  into  the  heart  of  Canada, 
and  convinced  the  Indians  that  the  retaliation  of 
vengeance  was  now  come  upon  them. 

While  Rogers  was  thus  employed  hi  hum- 
blhig  the  Indians  on  the  river  St.  Lawrence, 
general  Amherst  was  preparing  to  carry  liis  ar- 
my against  the  forts  and  settlements  in  Canada. 
Tiie  naval  force  of  the  enemy,  as  yet  gave  them 
tlic  command  of  the  lake  ;  the  first  business  of 
the  English  general  was,  to  obtain  a  superiority 
there.  Captain  Loring  had  for  some  time  been 
employed  to  superintend  the  building  of  vessels 
at  Ticonderoga.  Having  obtained  information 
of  the  situation  and  force  of  the  enemy  at  the  Isle 
Aux  Noix,  Amherst  directed  Loring  to  build, 
with  the  greatest  expedition,  a  sloop  of  si;jtecn 
guns,  and  a  radien,  eighty  four  feet  in  Iciigrh, 
capable  of  carrying  six  large  cannon.  By  the 
eleventh  day  of  October,  these,  together  with  a 
briggntine  were  finishedv  victualled  and  maimed  i 

*  Belknap.  ^i4. 


/  '• 


.'i 


:'   "!H 


■ill: 


I  '• 


I''       I 


r|  i  _ 


«-• 


Hifh 


1 


I     I 


■y 


:*' 


434 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


and  the  general  cmbnrkcd  with  the  \\lioIc  hods  of 
his  army  in  baUeaux,  to  cnt^agc  the  cueiny. 
The  next  day  the  weather  became  teii][>t*.li]fnib', 
and  they  weie  ob]i,4^cd  to  cunie  to  arichor  in  a 
bay  on  the  western  side  of  the  l:vke,  and  t!ic  nun 
were  landed  for  rcfreshuKMit.  In  the  mjaii  time, 
Loring,  with  his  small  s;;uadron,  sailed  down 
the  lake,  and  discovered  the  Frcjich  force  :  lie 
gave  ehaee  to  a  Frenv;h  sehooix-i',  I'.nd  dro\e 
three  of  their  vessi'ls  into  a  bar,  wlici  e  two  of 
them  were  sunk,  and  tlie  other  \vas  ruii :! ground 
by  their  crew,  who  escaped  into  the  v/oods. 
One  however  was  repaired j  and  bronglst  a^vay 
by  Loring,  who  had  sc  far  succeeded  at?  to  kave 
but  one  schooner  rem;.inlng  to  tlie  Frc.icli. 

Geneual  Amiieiist,  aller  ha.ir.p;  been  ulud 
bound  for  several  d.t\s,  iccu.bLirli.d  his  troops. 
and  proceeded  down  the  lake.  The  sturm  v/h'r;h 
had  abated,  began  again  with  increased  vioknec. 
and  the  baltcaux  -vveie  in  dan;\Tr  of  b;.ing'  sv.-al- 
lowed  up  by  the  wave::,.  Fiiidinj^the  seu.son  i'-.r 
agtion  was  elapsed,  and  the  v.inter  setting  in 
with  severit}-,  the  general  judr-'cd  it  inij:ractiea- 
ble  to  undertake  a  new  ex]>cd;lion  without  en- 
dangering his  army,  or  running  too  great  a  risk 
of  not  cftectinq;  his  oI>ieet.  ReturninfJi;  to  the 
bay  in  which  his  trooj;s  hud  1)Ch  11  slrcltered  (]\\r- 
ing  the  storm,  he  land«.d  thorn  again,  and  be  f:,iin 
his  march  to  Crown  Point,  where  he  arrived  on 
the  twenty  first  of  OeUjbcr. 

J-LiviNG  succeeded  in  gaining  possession  of 
two  of  the  French  forts,  and  securing  the  com- 
mand of  the  lake,  Amherst's  attention  was  now 
employed  in  erecting  a  new  fortress  at  Crown 
Point,  and  three  new  outworks  for  its  more  cf- 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        455 


casoii  i'>r 


fcctiMl  defence  ;  in  com  pleating  the  roods  which 
had  been  opened  during  the  summer ;  and  plan- 
ning' another  from  Ticonderoga  to  Number  Four 
or  Ch'irlestown  on  Connecticut  river  ;  his  ob- 
ject was,  eftectually  to  secure  the  advantages 
whicli  he  had  already  obt-iined  ;  and  to  put  his 
troops  in  a  situation,  favorable  to  the  compleat 
success  of  another  campaign,'* 

The  expedition  to  Niagara,  had  been  put 
under  the  command  of  general  Pnacaux.  This 
o;t!Cer,  with  tlie  troops  assigned  for  the  expedi- 
tion, reinforced  l)v  the  Indian  auxiliaries  under 
Sir  Williiun  Johnson,  advanced  to  Niagara  whh- 
o'Jt  Ijcing  molested  by  the  enemy  ;  and  invested 
the  fort,  about  the  middle  of  July.  The  ap* 
proac  licy  were  carried  on  M'lth  much  vigor  till 
ihe  twentieth  of  that  month,  when  Prideaux, 
v!.';iJing  the  trenches,  was  unfortunately  killed 
])y  the  bursting  of  a  cohorh.  The  command  of 
the  arHiy  devolving  on  Sir  William  Johnson, 
he  pursued  the  same  vigorous  measures,  and  c- 
reetcd  his  third  battery  within  one  hundred 
ynrds  of  the  flag.  While  the  English  were 
thus  pusliing  the  siege  with  the  greatest  vigor> 
the  enemy  ^vere  making  preparations  to  relieve 
the  place  ;  and  had  asst  mbled  a  body  of  troops 
IVom  Venangs,Detroit,Prcs(iuc-Isle,  &  other  set- 
tlements in  that  quarter,  amountingto  twelve  hun- 
dred men.  These,  with  a  body  of  Indians  un- 
der the  command  of  M.  cPAnbry,  were  march- 
ing to  reinforce  the  garrison  at  Niagara.  John- 
son was  informed  by  his  Indians  that  this  body 
\v[\^  on  their  march,  and  he  instantly  resolved  to 


.'  I, 


*  SmyUet'ii  Hut.  EajhnJ,  V9I.5,  p.  47I« 


'    ( 


v 


'I 


■\ 


^  >  1^ 


'•a 


I 


^1 


I 


*  ;■  i 


!i 


ii 


1 

i 


I 


I  I 


435         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

intrrccpt.  them.  In  tlic  cvculi  sjj  oi  July  tin* 
tvv<  iity  third,  he  ordered  the  lit;!  •  iiiiaiar}-  ii.id 
picjiKrts  to  take  ]>ost  on  the  iclt,  on  t);e  ro:id 
leadiiif.^  IVom  the  falls  of  Niag.ira  to  tlie  Ibrt.  In 
the  nioninii^,  these  troops  were  reiulbrced  with 
tlic  grenadiers,  and  l>y  a  part  of  the  forty  sixth 
regiment,  commanded  by  lieutenant  eoloncl 
Massey  ;  the  forty  fouith  rei^iment,  imder  lieu- 
tenant  colonel  Farguhar,  was  posted  at  the  tail 
of  the  works,  to  suj^port  die  gtiard  of  the  tren- 
ches  ;  and  tlic  Indians  were  ordered  and  en- 
couraged  to  be  ready  for  the  contest. 

Thus  prepared,  the  I'aiglish  were  ready  for 
the  battle,  and  about  ei;,ht  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing the  enemy  appeared.  The  Indians  in  the 
English  army,  advanced  to  speak  to  their  breth- 
ren who  were  with  the  French  ;  but  the  confer- 
ence was  declined  by  the  enem\'.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  horrible  yell,  called  the  War-whoop, 
became  the  sin'/ial  for  slaurirhter  :  and  the  action 
was  begun  with  great  impetuosity  by  the  enemy. 
But  neither  tlic  Indian  shrieks,  nor  the  French 
vivacity  could  avail  ;  their  troops  met  with  a 
hot  reception  in  the  front,  and  Sir  William's 
Indians  fell  furiously  on  their  fl^uiks.  The 
shock  was  too  violent  to  be  sustained,  and  in 
little  more  than  half  an  hour  their  whole  army 
vras  routed.  Great  numbers  were  slain,  their 
general  and  all  his  officers  were  taken  prisoners, 
and  tlie  rursuit  was  continued  for  five  miles, 
thrcus-Ji  the  woods  with  Q-reat  slau?:hter. 

The  buttle  was  fouglit  in  the  sight  of  tne 
Frc7ich  •franison  at  Niugira,  but  t!ie  garrison 
Was  not  iiWiXYQ  how  great  a  loss  the  French  army 
had  svr.tauied.     As  soon  as  the  dcreat  of  thr 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       48* 


French  was  complcated,  general  Johnson  sent 
major  Harvey  with  a  flag  to  the  commanding 
officer  in  the  fort,  with  a  list  of  the  prisoners, 
requiring  him  to  surrender  while  he  had  it  yet 
in  his  power  to  restrain  the  Indians,  and  before 
any  more  blood  should  be  shed.  The  comman- 
ding officer  wished  to  be  certain  of  the  event  of 
the  battle,  and  was  permitted  to  send  an  officer 
to  visit  the  prisoners.  Upon  his  return,  the  com- 
mander agreed  to  surrender,  articles  of  capitu- 
lation were  proposed,  and  in  a  few  hours  the 
trfjaty  was  ratified  and  signed  ;  the  whole  was 
compleatcd  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  of 
the  lamc  day,  on  which  the  batde  had  been 
fought.  The  garrison,  consisting  of  six  hun- 
dred  and  seven  men,  were  to  be  prisoners  of 
war,  and  protected  against  insult  and  pillage 
from  the  Indians  ;  the  women,  at  their  own  re- 
quest, were  to  be  conducted  to  Montreal  ;  the 
sick  and  wounded  were  to  be  treated  with  hu- 
manity, and  sent  to  their  respective  corps  as  sooa 
as  tliey  were  recovered.* 

This  was  the  second  victory  that  Sir  Wil. 
liam  Johnson  had  obtained  in  the  course  of  this 
war.  In  both  he  had  entirely  defeated  the  ene- 
my, and  taken  their  commanders  prisoners.  He 
himself  had  not  the  advantages  of  a  regular  mil- 
itary education.  In  his  battles,  and  in  what  was 
more  difficult,  in  the  art  of  governing  and  man- 
aging the  Indians,  he  was  most  of  all  indebted 
to  superior  natural  sagacity  and  courage.  In 
this  expedition  against  Niagara,  he  had  brought 
forward  eleven  hundred  Indians  of  the  six  na- 


•  Smollet's  Hijt.  England,  Vol.  |,  p.  475. 
vol.  !•  F  3 


i 


i( 


,t ' 


■  i 


•  i 


I 


:', 


(; 


|j! 


i 

ii 


il  I 


438 


NATURAL  AND  CiViL 


tions  ;  ill  the  battle  he  had  animated  their  nat- 
ural fierceness  and  impetuosity  }  after  the  siir- 
render,  he  coulcd  and  restrained  them  within 
the  bouiuis  of  order  aivl  moderation  ;  in  both 
cases,  iic  knew  how  to  manage  the  savage  tem- 
per, and  to  make  it  subservient  to  his  own  views 
and  purposes.  Like  other  professional  men,  the 
British  generals  did  not  intend  to  believe  that 
any  thing  effectual  could  be  done  in  their  pro- 
fession, without  a  regular  course  of  education, 
discipline,  and  experience.  When  Amherst  re- 
ceived intelligence  of  the  death  of  general  Pri- 
deaux,  he  appointed  brigadier  general  Gage  to 
the  command,  and  sent  him  on  from  Crown 
Point  to  Niagara.  Happily  for  the  colonies, 
G.,gc  did  not  arrive,  till  the  superior  genius  and 
sagacity  of  Johnson  had  reduced  the  fort,  and 
compleated  the  business  of  the  expedition. 

In  review ving  the  operations  of  tliis campaign, 
it  will  naturally  occur  to  our  minds  that  the 
British  minister  had  discovered  sound  policy, 
and  an  excellent  judgment,  in  selecting  the  gen- 
ius and  characters  of  the  several  commanders, 
for  the  nature  of  the  service  which  they  had  to 
perforni.  A  general  less  courageous,  active, 
enterprising,  tmd  animating,  than  VVolfe,  would 
not  have  persevered  amidst  all  the  difilcultics 
"VV'hich  attended  his  situation  ;  nor  would  h^  c 
thought  of  subduing  Quebec,  when  defended  I  / 
a  superior  force,  under  such  a  commander  ;.5, 
Montcalm  ;  nor  v.ould  have  dared  to  put  tb-j 
event  on  the  risk  of  a  sinrrle  battle.  Wolfe  well 
knew  what  his  troops  could  perform,  and  the 
event  turned  out  in  conformity  to  his  expectn- 
tions  and  wishes.     Jol^ison  foresaw  how  the 


v^ 


.,i 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       45?) 


French  and  Indians  would  make  their  attack, 
and  what  wpuld  be  the  consequence  of  their 
hurry  and  j^rccipitation  ;  and  the  spirit  he  dis- 
covered in  the  execution,  was  equal  to  the  wis- 
dom and  precaution  of  his  arrangements.  Cool, 
resolute,  and  cautious,  Amherst  left  the  enemy 
nothing  to  expect  froin  surprise,  or  from  wiiat 
they  called  a  coup  dii  main  ;  but  at  the  same 
time,  he  made  the  Indians  feel  the  horror  and 
vengeance  of  their  favorit?  system,  a  war  of  ex- 
termination. When  the  French  officers  found 
that  nothing  but  superior  skill  or  force  would 
be  able  to  withstand  him,  they  prudently  de- 
clined the  combat ;  and  to  avoid  being  made 
prisoners  of  war,  resigned  to  him  their  forts,  and 
the  command  of  lake  Champlain. 

1760.  The  operations  of  the  last  campaign 
had  been  so  extensive  and  successful,  that  no 
object  now  remained  in  the  northern  colonies, 
but  to  compleat  the  conquest  of  Canada,  by  the 
reduction  of  Montreal.  In  respect  to  its  num- 
bers, situation  and  importance,  this  was  the  se- 
cond place  in  Canada.  It  was  built  on  an  island 
in  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  at  nearly  an  equal 
distance  from  Quebec,  and  the  lake  Ontario  ; 
and  was  the  staple  of  the  Indian  trade  and  resi- 
dence of  tlrc  governor  general  of  the  colony. 
There  M.  de  Vaudricul  had  fixed  his  head 
quarters,  and  proposed  to  make  his  last  stand 
against  the  efforts  of  the  British  generals.  He 
levied  all  tlie  forces  that  could  be  raised,  col- 
lected magazines,  erected  new  fortifications,  and 
availed  himself  of  all  the  arts  and  measures  that 
could  be  adopted  by  an  able  and  experienced 
boldier  and  statesman.     His  hopes,  however, 


I  ' 


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440        NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

could  not  be  derived  from  the  situation  of 
strength  of  the  city,  but  upon  the  natural  strength 
of  the  country  ;  the  woods,  mountains,  waters, 
defiles  and  morasses,  that  the  British  generals 
must  have  to  pass,  before  they  could  bring  their 
armies  around  the  city.  These,  he  hoped, 
might  retard  the  progress  of  the  English  armies, 
or  protract  the  war  till  a  general  peace  should 
be  made,  or  some  favorable  event  enable  the 
French  to  afford  relief  to  the  colony.  That 
nothing  might  be  wanted  to  animate  and  allure 
the  inhabitants  to  make  a  general  and  desparate 
struggle  to  save  the  country,  he  addressed  a  cir- 
cular letter  to  all  the  officers  of  the  militia,  in 
this  style  : 

Montrealy  June  6,  1760. 
"Sir, 

*  THE  chevalier  dc  Levy  is  just  returned 

*  to  this  town ;  he  has  repeated  to  me  the  strong 

*  testimony  which  he  had  before   given  me,  of 

*  the  good  will,  the   zeal,  and  ardour  of  your 

*  company  of  militia. 

*  I  expected  no  less  from  the  fidelity  of  the 

*  brave  Canadians,  and  from  their  attachment 

*  to  their  native  country. 

'His  majesty,  who  is  by  this  time,   pfobab- 

*  ly  informed   of  your  brilliant  victory,  will  be 

*  no  less  pleased   with   this,  than  affected  with 

*  the  distresses  of  the  colony  ;  so   that    suppo- 

*  sing  that  peace  has  not   been    concluded,   on 
'  the  receipt  of  this  news,  the  king  of  England 

*  cannot  possibly  avoid  subscribing  such  terms 

*  as  our  monarch  shall  have  imposed  upon  him. 

*  You  are  not  uninformed  of  the   great  ad- 
^  vantages  which  he  gained  in  Europe  during 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      441 

*  the  last  campaign  over  the  EnglLh  and  Prub- 

*  sians. 

*  The  prisoners  which  are  bringing  in  every 

*  moment,  all  agree  in  confirming  them. 

*  The  truth  is,  his   majesty    is  in  person    in 

*  Holland  with  an  army   of  200/)G()   men,    the 

*  prince  of  Conti  in  Germany  with  100,000,  and 

*  the  princes  of     Deiix-Ponts,    and    Soubise, 

*  command  tlic  army  of  the  empire  of  200,000  ; 

*  and  lastly,  the  empress   of  Russia,   and   tlie 

*  queen  of  Hungary,  have   joined  their   whole 

*  force,  and  were  taking  measures  for  the    con- 

*  quest  of  the  remainder  of  his  Prussian  majcs- 

*  ty's  dominions, 

*  Besides  this,  the  last  accounts  assure  us, 

*  that  the  garrisons  of  forts  Frederic,   Ni:igara, 

*  and  Chonagan,  have  suffered  greatly  by  a  sick* 

*  ness,  which  is  n«t  yet  stopped,   and  that  the 

*  regular  troops  in  New  England  arc  reduced 


*  to  nothing. 


*  General  jNIrn ray,  therefore,  has  disper- 

*  sed  manifestoes  to  no  ]nir[>ose,  to  magnify  his 

*  own  nation,  to  pacify  the  Canadians,  to  engage 

*  them  to  lay  down  their  arms,  to  Diicrcdil  our 

*  bills  of  exchange,  and  our  cmnK  "y,  at  tho 

*  same  time  that  the  English  i;radei'.^  aif  citger 

*  to  procure  them,  because  they  have  been  re- 

*  gularly  paid. 

*  You  see,  sir,  that  the  colo^iy  is  dravin!?"  to 

*  the  end  of  its  hardships  and  ai.jtrcssts,  and  ihat 

*  it  is  upon  the  point  of  seeing  plenty  succeed 

*  to  scarcity. 

*  If  the  English  make  tmy  attempt,  it  mn 

*  have  no  other  object  than  the  ambliion  of  tUtir 

*  generals  ;  we  are  thoroughly  prtpured  tu  re- 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


pulse  them  with  spirit  ;  we  have  a  train  ojr 
artillery,  besides  that  which  we  took  from  the 
enemy  ;  a  still  greater  proportion  of  powder, 
ball,  and  ammunition,  for  the  operations  which 
I  have  projected ;  we  have  also  provisions 
enough,  by  mf  ans  of  the  resources  which  v/c 
shall  find  iti  the  good  will  of  the  Canadians, 
who  have  the  greatest  interest  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  their  religion  andv  liberty.  The  king's 
troops  will  even  live,  if  nccessar}'-,  upon  roots, 
when  thev  cannot  do  better,  and  will  not  fail 
to  join  their  endeavors  to  those  of  the  brave 
Canadians. 

*  My  intention  then  is,  that  you  and  all  your 
militia,  should  hold  yourselves  ready  to  uiarcli 
with  arms,  baq:i^iii2:e  and  eiorht  davs  nrovisions 
to  our  frontiers,  when  the  case  shall  require  it. 

*  I  believe  I  ciay  venture  to  assure  you,  that 
these  will  be  the  last  dispositions  which  I  shall 
have  occasion  to  make  for  the  defence  ©f  this 
colony  ;  being  firmly  convinced,  that,  sonic 
time  in  August,  at  least,  wt:  shall  have  peace, 
provisions,  and,  in  general,  whatever  we  want. 
I  am,  8vC. 

'  I\  S.  You  will  assemble  the  militia  of  your 
company,  and  read  this  letter  to  thei'";.  You 
will  cartfuily  inspccit  their  arms.  If  any  of 
them  are  out  of  order  you  will  give  them  a 
note,  and  the  king's  gmi  smith's  will  repair 
them  immediatelv."^' 

0 

WiriLE  the  marquis  de  Vaudrieul  ^vas  thujB 
stiiiETgiing  between  despair,  hope,  and  endeav- 
or, general  Amhcrbt  was  concerting  and  exccut- 

»  S»i«'I»t's  Mii»t.  E;»ulaRd,  V«»l.  3,  y .  41 . 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       li$ 


ini^  measures,  to  bring  all  the  British  armies  in 
America,  to  act  in  concert  against  Montreal. 
He  had  sent  instructions  to  general  Murray,  at 
Quebec,  directing  him  as  sooii  as  the  season 
would  p'.^rnit,  to  advance  wp  the  river  St.  Law- 
rence by  ^^atcr,  towards  Montreal,  with  all  thd 
troops  tiiat  could  be  spared  from  the  garrison  of 
Quebec.  He  ap])ointed  colonel  Haviland  to 
command  a.  body  of  troops,  which  were  to  pro- 
ceed from  Crown  Point,  through  lake  Cham- 
plain,  to  take  possession  of  the  Isle  Aux  Noix  ; 
and  from  thence  they  were  to  advance  by  the 
shortest  practicable  route,  to  tlic  banks  of  the 
river  St.  Lawrence.  For  himself  he  proposed 
to  go  Vv'ith  the  main  body  of  his  army  by  the 
v/ay  of  the  Mohawk,  and  Onondago  rivers,  to 
lake  Ontario  ;  to  embark  his  troops  at  Oswego, 
sail  over  the  lake,  and  down  the -river  St.  Law- 
rence, to  the  island  of  Montreal.  By  this  plan 
he  proi)osed  ^o  bring  all  his  troops  against  that 
place,  and  to  inclose  and  surround  the  enemy 
on  that  island. 

The  plan  of  military  operations  being  set- 
tled, the  commanders,  as  early  as  the  season 
would  allow,  set  themselves  to  carry  into  exe- 
cution the  part  that  was  assigned  to  them.  Gen< 
tral  Amlierst  had  procured  two  armed  schoon- 
ers tv>  cruise  on  lake  Ontario,  under  the  com- 
mand of  captain  Loring ;  and  a  great  number  of 
battcaux,  and  other  small  vessels  were  provided 
for  the  transportation  of  the  troops,  artillery, 
ammunition,  provisions,  and  baggage.  Several 
regiments  were  ordered  to  proceed  from  Albany 
to  Oswego  ;  and  the  general  himself  marched 
Irom  Schenectady,  with  the  rest  of  his  ti'oop*  ii^ 


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i44        NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

the  latter  end  of  June,  and  arrived  at  Oswcgd 
on  the  ninth  of  July. 

The  army  being  assembled,  amounted  to  a- 
bout  ten  thousand  men  ;  and  they  were  joined 
by  a  considerable  body  of  Indians  under  the 
direction  of  Sir  William  Johnson.  Colonel 
Ilaldimand,  with  the  light  Infantry,  the  Grena- 
diers, and  one  battalion  of  Highlanders,  was  de- 
tached to  take  post  at  the  eastern  part  of  the 
hike,  and  assist  the  armed  vessels  in  finding  a 
passage  to  la  Galette.  On  the  tenth  of  August 
the  \\  liole  army  embarked  on  board  the  batteaux 
and  whale  boats,  and  proceeded  along  the  lake 
towards  the  origin  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence, 
Understanding  there  was  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  enemy's  vessels,  the  general  resolved  to 
proceed  down  the  river  to  Swegathcie,  and  at- 
tack the  Frencli  fort  at  Isle  lloyalc  ;  a  post 
which  in  a  great  measure  commanded  the  pas- 
sage by  water,  eitlier  from  or  to  lake  Ontario, 
On  tlie  seventeenth,  the  row  gallics  fell  in  with 
the  French  sloops  commanded  by  M.  de  la  Bro- 
querie  ;  which  v/ere  forced  to  surrender,  after 
a  warm  con^^st.  Amherst  now  prepared  to  in» 
vest  the  fortress  at  Isle  Royale.  Batteries  were 
raised  on  the  adjacent  islands,  and  the  fort  was 
cannonaded  also  by  the  armed  sloops  ;  in  one 
of  those  islands,  some  scalps  were  found  which 
the  inhabitants  had  taken  from  some  of  the 
Mohawks,  n-hom  they  had  slain  :  The  Indians 
were  :  j  iniiamed  ot  the  sight,  that  they  burned 
their  rhapcl,  and  uu  their  houses. 

Preparations  being  made  for  a  genera! 
assault,  tlie  rommander,  M.  Pouchant  found  it 
most  prudent  to  beat  a  parley,  and  surrender  oh 


\ 


.f: 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        US 

capitulution.  With  the  capture  of  this  fort  the 
opposition  of  the  enemy  ceased,  but  the  naviga- 
tion became  extremely  clifHcult  and  dangerous. 
The  river  abounded  with  a  great  number  of 
rapids  and  falls,  wliich  could  not  be  avoided. 
Grrat  care  was  taken  to  guard  against  the  dan- 
gv  rs  of  the  passage  ;  but  notwithstanding  all  t!ie 
vigilance  and  exertions  of  the  oflicers  and  nr-en, 
tlie  army  suffered  much  in  this  part  of  tneir 
V{.)yage,  Forty  six  battcaux,  seventeen  whale- 
boats,  one  row-gailcy,  some  of  their  artillery, 
ammuniiion,  and  stores,  with  above  eighty  men 
were  lost  on  the  passage.  This  dangerous  ser- 
vice being  efiected,  the  army  met  with  no  I'ur- 
tlicr  difficulty,  but  landed  on  the  island  of  Mon- 
ti eal,  September  the  sixth,  without  any  o])posi- 
tion  from  the  enemy,  except  some  random  shots 
from  some  of  the  flying  parties,  who  instantly 
disappeared. 

Whue  general  Amherst  had  been  thus  en- 
gaged in  preparing  for  the  expedition,  and  com- 
ing down  from  lake  Ontario.,  general  Murray 
had  not  been  less  active  at  Quebec,  and  on  the 
river  St.  Lawrence. ,  During  the  w  inter  he  neg- 
lected no  measure  that  could  be  taken  to  pre- 
serve Quebec  and  to  subdue  the  adjacent  parts 
of  the  countrv,  and  manv  of  the  inhabitants  ac- 
tiiaily  look  the  oath  of  idlegiance  to  the  king  of 
Great  Britain.  The  garrison  ho^vever  vvithin 
the  w.->lls  of  Quebec  suffered  much  from  the 
«i  xt rune  cold  ol  the  winter,  the  want  of  fresh 
provisions,  and  the  scurvy  ;  before  the  end  of 
April,  one  thou^in-d  of  the  soldiers  were  dead, 
and  double  that  nun  bjr  were  unfit  for  serviee. 
'i'he  chevalier  de  L.v),  uawhoiu  th«  COmiUHttd 
VOL    I      G  3 


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NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


of  the  French  troops  had  devolved  by  the  deatk 
of  Montcalm,  was  encouraged  to  hope  from  the 
state  of  the  British  garrison  that  Quebec  might 
be  reduced  by  siege  before  a  British  fltct  couicJ 
arrive  with  succours  in  the  spring.  For  this 
purpose  he  collected  all  the  regular  troops,  Ca- 
nadians and  Indians  that  he  could  assemble  ; 
and  formed  an  army  of  more  than  twelve  thou- 
sand  men.  With  this  force  he  advanced  to 
lay  siege  to  Quebec  in  the  latter  end  of  A- 
pril.  Murray  confiding  in  the  bravery  &  discip- 
line of  his  troops,  meant  to  confound  &  disperse 
them  by  the  boldness  &  vigor  of  his  measures. 
On  the  twenty  eighth  of  April,  at  half  an  hour 
after  six  in  the  morning,  h»  threw  open  the 
gates  of  Quebec,  and  marched  out  with  his  lit- 
tle army  of  three  thousand  men  to  give  battle 
to  the  enemy.  A  severe  conflict  took  pl?cc,  and 
an  obstinate  battle  was  kept  up  for  an  hour  and 
three  quarters.  At  length  the  British  were  o- 
verpovvered  by  numbers,  and  obliged  to  quit 
the  field  with  the  loss  of  a  thousand  men  kilkd 
or  wounded.  The  French  lost  a  much  greater 
number,  but  remained  masters  of  the  rieid  of 
battle. 

Murray  retreated  with  i;js  troops  within  the 
walls  of  Quebec  ;  and  neither  dismayed  by  the 
loss  of  the  battle,  or  discoiiniged  with  the  weak- 
ness of  his  own  situation.,  made  a  vigorous  de- 
fence and  determined  at  every  risk  and  hazard 
to  hold  out  till  succours  should  arrive.  The 
enemy  did  not  omit  to  avail  themselves  ofihc 
advaiua.^e  of  the  battle,  and  the  same  cvcnwv^ 
opened  iheir  trenches  against  the  place.  For 
several  days  they  Ciumgiiudvd  the  city  with  j^-rcat 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      44f 

vivacity,  but  thci'*  artillery  was  not  equal  to  that 
of  the  garrison.  On  the  ninth  of  May  a  Brit- 
ish shi",  commanded  by  captain  Deane  entered 
the  harbour  of  Quebec,  and  announced  the  joy- 
ful news  that  a  British  squadron  was  in  the  riv- 
er. On  the  fifteenth  of  Alay,  commodore  Swan- 
ton  arrived,  and  in  the  evening  anchored  above 
point  Levy.  Early  the  next  morning  two  of  his 
vessels  slipped  their  cables  to  attack  the  feet 
which  the  French  had  collected.  They  were 
no  sooner  in  motion  than  the  French  ships  fled 
in  the  utmost  disorder.  One  of  their  frigates 
was  driven  on  the  rocks,  another  ran  on  shore 
and  was  burned,  and  all  their  other  vessels  were 
tuken  or  destroyed.  So  confounded  and  dis- 
pirited were  the  enemy  by  this  disaster,  and  the 
dread  of  an  approaching  fleet,  that  in  the  fol- 
lowing night  they  raised  the  siege  of  Quebec, 
and  retreated  with  great  precipitation,  leaving 
their  provisions,  implements,  and  artillery.  The 
next  morning,  Murray  marched  out,  but  found 
the  enemy  had  fled  ;  and  nothing  left  for  him 
but  to  take  possession  of  their  tents,  stores,  mag- 
azines of  provision,  ammunition,  and  artillery. 

Thjb  affairs  of  Quebec  being  settled,  and  a 
proper  garrison  assigned  for  its  protection,  ^lur- 
ray  prepared  to  advance  up  the  river  to  Mon- 
treal. The  troops  were  embarked  at  Quebec, 
on  board  a  great  number  of  small  vessels ;  cap- 
tain Deane  in  the  Diana,  undertook  the  com- 
mand and  the  hazard  of  conducting  them  up 
ihc  river.  This  officer  with  uncommon  abili- 
ties and  attention  surmounted  all  the  difficulties 
and  hardships  of  an  unknown,  perplexed,  and 
liiinjcroas  navigution  ;  and  such  was  his  attcn- 


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NATURAL  AKD  CIVIL 


tion  and  vigilance  that  not  a  vessel  was  lost  in 
conducting  a  numerous  fleet,  one  hundred  uud 
eighty  miles  through  an  enemy's  country,  and 
against  a  rapid  stream,  where  no  P'.nglish  vessel 
had  ever  been  before.  Genera)  Murray  uhile 
advancing  up  the  river,  every  where  publish  d 
manifestoes,  inviting  the  Canadi.ins  to  submis- 
sion, and  promising  them  protection  under  the 
British  government.  These  [  roclanustioiis  hid 
great  effect.  iMmost  all  the  parishes  on  the 
south  shore,  as  iUr  as  the  ri^er  Sorel,  made  their 
submissions,  and  took  the  oath  of  neutrality  ; 
one  village  opposed  him  with  arms,  and  that  by 
way  of  example  and  terror  he  set  on  fire.  On 
the  north  shore, lord  RoUo  disarmed  the  inhahi. 
tants  as  far  as  Trois  Uiviereii,  and  took  posses- 
sion of  that  village  without  opposition.  M.  de 
Levy  was  all  the  time  watcliing  the  motions  of 
general  Murray,  and  waiting  for  an  opportuiii- 
ty  to  attack  hiui  with  success  ;  but  inc  tin;e 
for  such  enterprises  \vas  pr.st,  the  people  were 
every  where  submitting  to  the  British  general, 
and  were  not  disposed  to  venture  on  hostilities. 
Thus  fortunate  and  successful  in  every  part  of 
the  business,  Murray  arrived  strfe  with  the  troops 
under  his  command,  and  landed  on  the  east  part 
of  the  island  of  Montreal,  the  day  after  Am- 
herst had  landed  on  the  ^vest. 

The  army  that  was  to  proceed  to  Montrf;il 
by  the  way  of  hike  Champlain,  was  put  under 
th'j  command  of  colonel  Haviland.  To  fucili 
tate  ih.o  o-.^evations  of  the  war,  And^erst  had  di- 
rected thiit  a  road  should  be  opened  from  Num- 
ber Four  on  Connecticut  river,  across  the  Green 
Mountains  to  Crown  Point.     This  service  was 


..\ 


HTSTOKY   OF  VERMONT.      449 

performed  by  a  New  Hampshire  rcf^imont,  im- 
dcr  the  conimaiul  of  cf)loiKl  Gotfc.  They  be- 
gan their  road  at  Wrntworth's  ferry,  two  miles 
above  the  fort  at  Charlestown  ;  cut  d<nvn  the 
trCes  and  made  bridi^cs,  till  their  road  extendul 
twenty  six  miles.  At  lliat  ])lace,  they  found  ii 
path,  in  which  they  proceeded  to  Otter  Cteek  ; 
from  whence  they  found  a  f^ood  road  w  hich  lead 
to  Crown  Point.  In  this  work  they  made  such 
dispatch,  as  to  join  the  army  at  that  place  on 
July  the  thirty  lirst,  and  brf»up;ht  with  them  a 
drove  of  cattle  for  the  snv^.,  of  the  army.*  On 
August   the   twelfth,    Hav^  embarked   his 

troops  in  battcaux  and  whaleboats,  and  sailed 
down  lake  Champlain.  He  met  with  no  oppo- 
sition from  the  enemy  till  he  arrived  at  the  Isle 
Aux  Noix.  This  place  had  been  ^trong•ly  for- 
tified, and  made  some  appearance  of  opposition  ; 
some  skirmishes  took  place,  ?.nd  a  lew  \v\re 
slain  on  both  sides  ;  but  the  enemy  m  ere  too 
weak  and  too  much  dispirited  to  make  a  formi- 
dable opposition.  Tlie  post  was  soon  deserted, 
and  the  forts  at  St.  Jehu's  and  Chaml/ly  became 
an  easy  conquest.  Meeting  wilh  no  lurther  op- 
position, the  troops  passed  on  ;  and  the  day  af- 
ter Murray  had  elFected  his  landiiig,  Haviland 
appeared  with  his  army  on  the  south  side  of  the 
river  St.  Lawrence,  directly  opposite  to  Mon- 
treal. These  events  and  cncum.^jtaiices  appear- 
ed highly  favorable  and  unexpected.  The  three 
armies  pursuing  different  routes,  and  unacquain- 
ted with  each  other's  progress,  passed  through 
a  long  and  dangerous  tract  in  the  enemy's  coun- 
try, and  arrived  at  the  capital  within  two  days 
of  each  other. 

•  Belknap's  Hist.  New  H:impshirc,  Yol.'3»,"p.  305. 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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JA50 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


NoTHiKa  now  remained  for  M.  de  Vau- 
clricul,  but  to  make  the  best  terms  he  could  for 
the  colony.  General  Amherst,  on  the  day  in 
which  he  arrived,  formed  his  army  in  a  plain 
bt'fore  Montreal,  \?hcre  his  troops  lay  all  night 
upon  their  arms  ;  and  was  proceeding  to  brinp 
oil  his  artillery,  and  lay  siege  to  the  city.  On 
tht  morning  of  tlie  seventh,  he  received  a  flag 
and  letter  from  Vaudricul,  who  serat  two  ofiicers 
demanding  a  capitulation.  Amherst  stated  the 
terms  which  he  would  grant,  and  which  he  sig- 
nified that  he  should  not  alter.  Some  letters 
passed  upon  the  subject,  but  Vaudrieul  could 
tlo  no  otherwise  than  to  submit  to  the  terms 
dictated  by  the  British  general.  They  were 
however  favorable  to  the  French  colony.  The 
troops  surrendered  prisoners,  and  were  not  to 
serve  against  the  English  or  their  allies  during 
the  war.  The  whole  country  of  Canada  was  to 
be  surrendered  to  the  king  of  Great  Britain  ; 
and  the  inhabitants  were  to  be  protected  in  their 
estates  and  religion. 

Thus  was  compleated  the  conquest  of  Cana- 
da, September  the  eighth,  1760,  in  the  sixth 
year  of  the  war,  and  after  the  most  severe  strug- 
gles. During  the  contest,  six  battles  had  been 
f  uight,  the  fortune  of  which  was  equally  divi- 
ded. The  first  of  these  was  at  the  meadows, 
near  fort  Du  Quesne,  in  wliich  Braddock  was 
slain,  and  the  French  successful.  The  next  v/as 
at  lake  George,  where  Dieskau  was  defeated 
and  captured,  and  Johnson  gained  the  victory. 
The  third  was  at  Ticonderoga,  iji  which  Aber- 
crombie  was  defeated,  and  Montcalm  gained  the 
Advanti'irc.       In  the   fourth,   at  Isiaj^^araj  the 


VA 


'^'^^mm 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      451 


French  were  subdued,  and  Johnson  gained  a 
compleat  victory  and  conquest.  In  the  fifih, 
at  Quebec,  Wolfe  and  Montcalm  the  greatest 
generals  that  had  appeared  in  America,  both 
fell ;  but  victory  and  conquest  were  on  the  side 
of  the  British.  The  sixth  was  at  Sillcry,  Mur- 
ray was  defeated,  and  M.  de  Levy  gained  the 
battle.  The  British  nation  and  colonies  for 
more  than  seventy  years,  had  beon  aiming  to 
accomplish  the  business,  but  without  success. 
A  large  country  was  now  added  to  the  Biitish 
dominions,  and  an  end  put  to  the  depredations 
and  ravages  of  the  Indian  tribes.  The  grand 
contest  for  which  the  war  was  begun,  appeared 
to  be  decided  ;  and  the  future  prospects  of  the 
colonies  bore  the  aspect  of  tranquility,  prosperi- 
ty, rapid  increase,  and  improvement.  All  these 
hopes  and  prospects  seemed  to  be  confirmed 
and  compleated  by  the  treaty  of  peace  signed  at 
Paris,  February  the  tenth,  1763.  By  this  treaty, 
the  king  of  France  ceded  and  granted  to  the 
British  king  in  full  right,  the  whole  country  of 
Canada,  with  all  its  dependencies,  in  the  most 
ample  manner  and  form.  All  that  the  British 
colonies  could  wish  respecting  Canada,  was  now 
obtained  ;  and  the  time  was  come,  in  which  it 
might  reasonably  be  expected,  that  all  their  fu-  ' 
ture  exertions  would  be  employed  for  the  im- 
prove mcnt  and  prosperity  of  their  country. 


111 


I'  !i 


11 


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I  ii 


i; ! 


ill   I 
■11  f 


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% 

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1  !     % 


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It 


^ 


452        NATURAL  AND  CIVJL 

IN  reviewing  this  system  of  colonijil  wai*, 
not  only  its  military  operations,  but  its  origin, 
moral  and  political  tenclt- ncy  and  cftect,  are  also 
worthy  our  attention  and  remark. 

The  Origin  of  these  wars  will  easily  be 
found  in  the  dift'erent  interests,  feelings,  and 
passions  of  men.  The  Europeans  who  made 
the  first  settlements  in  America,  were  from  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  European  continent ;  from 
Spain,  Portugal,  England,  France,  Holland  and 
Sweden.  They  brought  with  them  the  opin- 
ions, customs  and  hubits,  of  the  governments 
and  churches  to  which  they  had  been  accustom- 
ed, and  were  more  or  less  influenced  by  particu- 
lar moral  considerations,  and  local  circumstan- 
ces. These  were  jneatlv  different  ;  but  in  one 
view  and  design,  they  ^vere  all  agreed.  They 
all  meant  to  obtain  possession  of  the  different 
parts  of  the  American  continent,  to  which  they 
removed  ;  and  to  make  a  firm  and  permanent 
settlement  on  the  lands,  of  which  they  took  pos- 
'session.  The  Indians,  unacquainted  with  the 
European  character,  and  too  ignorant  and  cred- 
ulous to  suspect  unfriendly  or  mischievous  de- 
signs in  tkeir  new  visitors,  every  where  received 
them  with  the  tokens  of  unfeigned  hospitality 
and  joy  ;  and  viewed  them  as  a  race  of  beings, 
far  superior  to  themselves.  The  Europeans  a- 
vailed  themselves  of  their  superior  knowledge 
in  all  the  arts,  commerce  and  business  of  life  ; 
and  of  the  native  simplicity  and  ignorance  of 
the  orijnnal  inhabitants.  Bv  a  careful  attention 
to  the  Indian  temper,  character,  and  state,  they 
engaged  their  confidence,  procured  their  friend- 
ship, and  obtained  their    consent  to  settle  on 


x\^) 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.      451 


£;■ 


tJieir  lands.  It  was  not  till  after  a  period  of 
years  had  taken  place,  that  the  natives  discerned 
the  policy,  and  became  jealous  of  the  increasing 
power  and  numbers  of  the  European  settlers. 
With  this  jealousy  the  savage  temper  became 
sullen,  g.oomy,  suspicious  and  resentful.  C(>n- 
troversies  took  place,  mutual  provocations,  com- 
plaints and  injuries  succeeded  ;  and  the  Euro- 
peans were  every  year  advancing,  and  formiiig 
new  settlements  in  the  Indian  country.  Dis- 
putes about  property  and  encroachment  ensued  ; 
and  these  had  the  same  effect  in  the  colonies  that 
they  have  in  every  other  part  of  the  globe,  they 
gradually  but  unavoidably  resolved  themselves 
into  an  appeal  to  force  ;  and  when  once  hostili- 
ties and  slaughter  began,  war  would  assume  all 
the  barbarity  and  cruelty  that  was  inseparable 
from  the  Indian  passions,  customs  and  habits. 
The  result  was  every  where  the  same  ;  sooner 
or  later  war  broke  out  between  the  Indians  and 
the  Europeans  who  were  settling  and  taking 
possession  o^  their  country. 

In  addition  to  the  wars  that  arose  from  this 
cause,  there  was  another  equally  certain  and  un- 
avoidable, the  seat  of  which  lay  in  ^Europe. 
The  different  interests,  the  mutual  hatred,  the 
perpetual  pride  and  ambition  of  the  European 
monarchs,  kept  their  kingdoms  in  constant  con- 
tention and  war  ;  and  these  wars,  by  the  decrees 
of  their  sovereigns,  always  followed  their  sub- 
jects into  the  new  worlds  and  became  one  of 
their  heaviest  calamities  and  curses.  Whenever 
the  kings  of  England  or  France  supposed  it 
would  be  for  their  interest  to  involve  their  king- 
tloms  in  blood  and  slaui^hter,  their  colonies  in 

VOL.    I  H 


'  i 


454         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


:!■:■ 


^^■:ti\^ 


I 


:     J 


T 


every  part  of  the  world  were  required  to  i  .'n  m 
the  folly  and  madness  of  their  soverei.Sf'n^  ;  *r;d 
to  phingc  themselves  into  ail  the  cakir.iit'us  ;i.id 
miseries  of  their  bloody  contests.  Lj  bolhilicsc 
causes  there  were  perpetual  sources  of  war  ia 
the  colonies  ;  and  there  was  nr.-  .-arionai  jrreund 
to  expect  that  they  could  be  avoid;\'l,  while  die 
colonies  were  extending  their  seti;!cracnts  into 
the  Indian  country  ;  or  while  thev  remained 
connected  with  the  European  sovereigns  or 
powers. 

Among  the  dangerous  consequences  of  these 
wars,  the  moral  e  f  i  e  c  t  was  greatly  u nfa  vor- 
able,  and  corrupting  to  die  human  mind  :  They 
operated  with  a  certain  and  constant  tendency 
to  destroy  the  moral  virtues  ofhumanit),  can- 
dor, and  benevolence  ;  and  to  produce  the  spir- 
it of  bigotry,  intolerance,  revenge  and  mutual 
hatred.  It  was  not  possible  for  the  men  that 
were  constantly  endeavouring  to  injure  and  de- 
stroy, to  love  and  do  good  to  one  another ;  in- 
stead  of  this,  they  were  constantly  learning  to 
hate  and  to  abhor  each  other.  The  spirit  of  in- 
tolerance and  bigotry  seems  to  be  unavoidably 
connected  with  ignorance,  and  to  be  incurable 
by  any  thing  but  science  and  philosophy.  This 
raving,  fiery  spirit  of  the  partisans,  derived  new 
force  and  inflammation  from  the  perpetual  wars 
in  which  the  colonies  were  engaged.  The  peo- 
ple in  the  French  colonies  were  trained  up  to 
believe  that  they  belonged  to  a  monarch  and 
to  a  church,  which  were  absolutely  infallible  ; 
the  different  sects  and  parties  in  the  English 
colonies  did  as  firmly  believe,  that  they  them- 
selves were  never   in   the   wrong.      To  carry 


w 


■AA' 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.        455 


d  to  i  'n  } 


m 


.'liTp, 


in 


id 


Limuics  and 
1  both  !!i<.-:sc 
s  of  war  in 
);iai  pfr«uiid 
I,  while  i-he 
racDts  into 
r  remained 
*^crcigns  or 

pes  of  these 
Hy  iinfavor- 
lind  :  They 
t   tendency 
anit> ,    can- 
ce  the  spir- 
nd   mutual 
men   that 
ire  and  de- 
lother ;  in- 
earning   to 
spirit  of  in- 
navoidably 
incurable 
ny.    This 
srived  new 
etiial  wars 
The  peo- 
ned  up  to 
narch  and 
infallible  ; 
English 
ley   them- 
To   carry 


. 


their  political  and  theological  prejudices  and  ha- 
tred to  the  highest  degree,  nothing  was  wanted 
but  the  cruelties  and  barbarities  of  an  Indian 
war.  Both  parties  very  justly  reproached  each 
other,  for  the  inhumanity  and  wickedness  of 
their  proceedings  ;  and  they  well  knew  that  the 
Indians  in  one  part  of  the  country,  were  under 
the  management  of  the  French  ;  and  in  anoth- 
er, under  the  direction  of  the  English.  Policy 
and  disguise  would  of  course  avail  themselves 
of  all  the  help  and  assistance  that  could  be  deri- 
ved i'rom  the  pretence  or  abuse  of  religion,  to 
represent  the  opposite  party  as  faithless,  corrupt, 
heretical,  opposers  of  God,  and  all  that  was 
good. 

To  carry  this  scene  of  mutual  hatred,  bigotry 
and  abuse,  to  its  greatest  height  and  extent,  time 
and  experience  hud  shown  that  the  surest  way 
was  to  put  it  under  the  management  of  a  set  of 
intolerant  priests,  genus  irritabile  vatutn^  and 
to  them,  the  politicl  leaders  looked  to  afford  a 
powerful  assistance,  by  representing  their  ene- 
mies, under  an  odious  and  awful  character.  In 
these  exploits  the  English  and  the  French  seem 
to  have  been  very  successful  in  destroying  the 
spirit  of  candor,  charity,  and  benevolence  ;  and 
in  promoting  that  of  mutual  aversion,  extreme 
bigotry,  and  intolerant  hatred. 

While  the  moral  tendency  was  thus  unfor- 
tunate and  corrupting,  the  eiTcct  of  continued 
war  on  the  literary  and  sc'ientijic  character  and 
pursuits  of  the  colonies^  was  equally  unfavora- 
ble and  degrading.  It  was  the  peculiar  felicity 
of  the  first  settlers  of  the  English  colonies  that 
th^  were  descended  frona  the  i^ost  enlightened 


m 


\ 


I  i 


Hi 


i 


Mr' Mi  I 


-I 


11  ■: 


i  1 


«H 


n 


i 


'I 


3,' 


k  0  ■ 


S 


456 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


part  of  Europe,  and  at  a  time  when  considera- 
ble advances  had  been  made  in  the  arts  and 
sciences.  The  clergy,  and  several  of  the  leading 
men  that  came  over  with  the  English,  when 
they  made  their  first  settlements,  had  been  ed- 
ucated at  the  universities  of  Cambridge  or  Ox' 
ford.  They  were  well  acquainted  with  classi- 
cal literature,  had  been  instructed  in  the  phi- 
losojjhy  of  that  day,  and  were  eminent  for  their 
knowledge  in  the  theological  debates  and  con- 
troverhies  that  agitated  the  English  nation  at 
that  time.  Disgusted  with  the  English  hierar- 
chy, and  viewing  with  horror  the  arbitrary  pro- 
ceedings of  Charles  the  first,  and  his  archbish- 
op Laud,  they  removed  into  America,  to  be 
©ut  of  the  reach  of  prelatical  power  and  perse- 
cution. Without  a  preconcerted  plan  of  eecle- 
siastical  power  or  policy,  they  adopted  sueh  a 
method  of  ecclesiastical  proceedings,  as  utility, 
time,  and  circumstances  suggested.  Happiiy 
for  themselves  and  for  their  posterity,  nature 
and  Christianity  led  them  to  adopt  one,  that 
was  equally  favorable  to  the  interests  of  moral- 
ity and  religion  ;  and  to  the  rights  and  hbcr- 
ties  of  mankind. 

Justly  pleased  with  the  form,  in  which  tli5 
christian  church  appeared  in  the  new  world, 
and  apprehensive  of  the  important  consequent 
ces  it  might  have  on  society,  they  wished  to 
give  to  the  church  and  to  the  country,  all  the 
advantages  that  might  be  derived  from  the  in- 
fluence of  the  arts  and  sciences.  So  early  as 
the  year  1638,  they  began  the  foundation  of  a 
College  at  Cambridge  ;  and  were  warmly  en^ 
jjaged  in  making  provision  to  educaietkeir  youlH 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.       457 


in  useful  knowledgje  and  to  supply  their  chur- 
ches with  well  educated  and  learned  ministers. 
In  1700,the  colony  of  Connecticut  followed  the 
example  of  Massachusetts,  and  founded  a  sem. 
inary  now  called  Yale  College.  Both  these  so- 
cieties received  much  assistance  from  the  civil 
government,  and  were  warmly  supported  and 
encouraged  by  the  clergy.  And  it  was  from 
them,  that  almost  all  the  acquaintance  which  the 
country  had  with  the  arts  and  sciences,  was  de- 
rived. To  increase  the  influence  and  impor- 
tance of  these  colleges,  and  to  preserve  a  deco- 
rum and  uniformity  in  their  churches,  their 
ministers  wisely  established  a  rule  to  discour- 
age the  application  of  those  to  the  ministry, 
who  had  not  received  an  education  at  their  own 
cr  at  some  other  College. 

Thus  educated  in  the  best  manner  the  state 
of  the  country  would  admit,  the  order  of  cler- 
gy appeared  to  advantage  in  the  colonies.  A- 
mong  the  doctrines  which  had  divided  the  chris-. 
tian  world,  they  had  almost  universally  embra- 
ced the  opinions  of  Calvin  ;  but  were  not  de- 
ficient in  inculcating  the  duties  of  morality,  and 
the  maxims  of  practical  virtue.  In  respect  to 
their  learning,  piety,  gravity,  and  regvilarity  of 
conduct,  this  order  of  men  were  highly  Csteem- 
cd  by  their  country  ;  and  several  of  them  were 
eminent  as  writers,  and  popular  preachers. 
With  more  strength  and  originality  of  genius 
than  any  former  metaphysician,  Edwards  had 
gone  further  than  any  other  man,  to  give  deci- 
sion and  certainty  to  metaphysical  theory  and 
reasoning.  In  treating  on  the  ancient  contro, 
versies  respecting  fate  and  freewill,  none  of  th« 


!    \ 


I 


I 


'  I 


•;i  I' 


;  i 


i\ 


! 


«; 


458 


NATURAL   AND  CIVIL 


mctajihysical  writers  had  discovered  so  much 
ingenuity  and  acumen.  But  like  all  the  rest, 
while  labouring  to  establish  the  doctrine  of  fate, 
necessity,  and  liberty,  lie  clearly  proved  that  nei- 
ther the  calvinistic,  nor  the  arminiim  theory,  nor 
the  metaphysical  way  of  reasoning,  ever  couldex. 
plain  or  clear  up  the  subject;  and  that  the  con- 
necting truths  or  principles,  which  would  serve 
to  show  tlie  consistency  between  the  unaltera- 
ble  councils  and  decrees  of  heaven,  and  the 
free  agency  and  accountability  of  men,  were  not 
to  be  found  in  any  of  ih.e  metaphysical  systems, 
that  had  yet  been  announced  to  the  world  ; 
and  that  no  such  tlieorv  or  svstem  ever  could 
explain,  or  be  applied  to  the  powers  or  actions 
of  animals. 

Others  of  the  clergy  had  wrote  to  great  ad- 
vantage in  the  controversies  with  the  church  of 
England,  and  on  the  doctrines  and  claims  of 
the  church  of  Rome.  But  the  country  had  not 
yet  been  agitated  by  any  controversies  respect- 
ing the  trinity,  the  incarnation,  the  atonement, 
the  necessity,  evidence  or  reality  of  miracles, 
prophecy,  or  revelation,  and  perhaps  no  order 
of  clergy  ever  were  more  useful  to  mankind, 
than  those  who  had  directed  the  reii^-'ious  affairs 
•f  the  colonies  at  tliis  peiiod. 

I>r  the  courts  of  law,  tlie  business  was  as  well 
done,  and  justice  was  as  impartially  administer- 
ed, as  in  any  part  of  Europe.  I'he  common 
law  of  England  was  the  rule  of  proceeding,  and 
happily  for  the  country,  neither  the  provincial 
governments,  the  judges,  or  the  lawyers  had  at- 
tempted to  alter  or  to  improve  it.  What  rela- 
t(?d  to  the  local  eircumstances  of  the  colonies 


lIISTOnY  OF  VERMONT.      450 


50  much 
the  rest, 
e  of  fate, 
I  that  iiei- 
eory,  nor 
could  ex. 
the  con- 
iild  serve 
iinaltera- 
and  the 
"vvcre  not 
svstems, 
;  world  ; 
I'cr  could 
}r  actions 

great  ad- 
^hurch  of 
clainris  of 
'  had  not 
>  respect, 
onenient, 
miracles, 
no  order 
iiankind, 
us  ailairs 

s  as  well 
minister- 
common 
ing,  and 
rovincial 
s  had  at  . 
lat  rela- 
colonies 


A     ^ 


Wfi«5  rrf!;ulatcd  by  provinrln^  laws  ;  nnd  ihcse  the 
colonies  were  much  better  qiiulifitd  u:  tl-.tn- 
miiie,  than  any  iCuropr  an  ki'\;r>  <»r  jjarrruncnis. 
Tlie  ludicrous,  absurdi'.ies  which  the  s:  skni  of 
monarcl.y  J;ad  intiodiieed  into  the  Pvi^g!is!i  jL.i- 
tuics,  did  not  apply  to  the  p'aetical  eouno  of 
events  or  of  I  nsincss  in  the  colonies  ;  and  their 
courts  had  no  n.c:; sion  to  compute  on  th;-  cor- 
ruption of  blood,  i\\<.  veispectaljility  of  an  infai 
mous  noi^leman,  or  the  sacredncss  of  i\':yal  vice 
or  follv.  Most  of  their  lawyers  were  men  of  a 
liberal  education  ;  and  several  of  them  were 
among  the  most  respectable  and  useful  men  in 
the  country.  But  the  time  was  not  conic  to  at- 
tempt to  improve  the  law  or  the  profession.  No 
books  of  reports,  no  treatises  on  law  or  evidence, 
or  any  thing  appropriate  to  a  colonial  system  of 
law  or  practice  had  appeared  ;  all  was  in  sub- 
jection to  British  precedents  and  to  British  im- 
portance. 

Th  e  medical  part  of  science  and  the  branches 
more  immediatelr  connected  with  it,  had  as  yet 
only  bore  a  practical  aspect.  The  physicians 
were  as  useful  and  practised  Vv  ith  as  much  suc- 
cess in  the  colonies,  as  in  any  part  of  the  globe, 
and  no  where  did  the  people  enjoy  more  health ; 
but  their  knowledge  and  success  was  much 
more  the  result  of  observation  and  practice,  than 
of  theory  or  system.  No  medical  schools  or 
professorships,  no  regular  courses  of  surgery, 
chemistry,  or  clinical  instruction,  had  at  that 
time  been  instituted  in  the  colonics  ;  and  scarce- 
ly any  thing  had  been  done  in  the  materia  me- 
dica,  in  botanv  or  in  the  collections  of  natural 
history.     One  important  discovery  was  introdtt^ 


'      I 


'{ 


14,      f 

'I 


<i 


■'i 


II  ' 


'  ' 


'^1 


I  I 


k 


i,  if 


469 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


cod  in  the  colonics  as  early  as  it  was  in  Great 
Britain.  Dr.  Cotton  M.ithcr,  of  lio.^toii,  hid 
observed  in  the  philosophical  transactions,  an 
nccount  of  the  manner  in  which  inoculation  for 
the  small  pox  was  practised  in  the  Turkish  do- 
minions. At  his  recommendation,  Dr.  Boylston, 
one  of  the  nhysicians  at  Boston,  introduced  it  at 
that  place,  in  the  year  172L  It  met  with  suc- 
cess ;  and  with  the  opposition,  which  is  always 
to  be  expected,  when  a  new  method  of  practice 
is  introduced.  But  although  it  exposed  the  first 
promoters  of  it  to  a  considerable  share  of  pro- 
fessional and  popular  resentment,  it  was  eventu- 
ally  attended  with  much  success,  and  almost 
universally  adopted. 

There  was  an  accuracy  and  a  minuteness  in 
the  historical  productions  of  the  country,  which 
marked  the  feelings,  pursuits  and  views  of  the 
colonies  with  much  precision  ;  but  the  transac- 
tions  of  which  they  treated,  appeared  too  local 
and  too  small,  to  engage  the  attention  of  the 
world.  Hubbard  wrote  a  very  accurate  and 
useful  history  of  the  Indian  Wars  in  New  Eng- 
land.  Moretoji  wrote  a  Memorial,  which  was 
of  use  to  preserve  the  memory  of  the  first  set- 
tlers and  their  proceedings.  But  the  most  that 
was  done  this  way,  was  by  Dr.  Cotton  Mather^ 
of  Boston.  With  a  singular  genius,  with  much 
of  the  Hebrew  literature,  and  a  warm  imagina- 
tion, in  a  book  to  which  he  gave  the  title  of 
Magnalia  Christi  Americana,  he  wrote  minute 
and  lengthy  accounts  of  all  the  ecclesiastical, 
historical  and  literary  proceedings  of  the  country 
till  the  year  16Q2.  Pcniiallow,  at  Portsmouth, 
gave  aa  account  of  tlie  Indian  Wars  ;  and  Dou^- 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      4(Jl 


5  m  Great 

"iton,  h;id 
^.tious,  ail 
ilation  for 
irkish  do- 
Boylston, 
luccd  it  at 
with  siic- 
is  always 
af  practice 
sd  the  first 
re  of  pro- 
as  eventu- 
nd  almost 

luteness  in 
try,  which 
ews  of  the 
le  transac- 
1  too  local 
on  of  the 
urate  and 
"^ew  Eng- 
;vhich  was 
;  first  set- 
most  that 
n  Matheff 
vith  much 
imagina- 
e  title  of 
te  minute 
esiastical, 
le  country 
rtsmouth, 
lUd  Dou^' 


'<■'    :• 


hss,  at  Boston,  wrote  a  historical  and  political 
sunimiiry  of  the  affairs  of  the  colonies  to  the 
year  1750.  In  Virginia,  Stith  iiikI  Beverly  pub- 
lislied  histories  of  that  colony  to  tl'.e  year  1700. 
In  New  York,  CoUIen  wrote  the  history  of  the 
five  nations  of  Indians,  in  1747  ;  and  in  1756, 
Smith  published  a  history  of  tlie  province  to  the 
year  17;]2.  In  these  productions  there  were 
authentic  and  useful  records  of  the  early  pro- 
ceedings of  some  of  the  colonies.  They  were 
viewed  in  Europe  as  too  small  matters  to  engage 
the  public  attrniion  ;  and  it  was  not  suspected 
by  her  historiar.s,  that  the  American  writers 
were  describing  principles  and  proceedings,  from 
whence  the  greatest  of  all  human  empires  was 
destined  to  arise. 

Speculative  science  was  not  much  wanted, 
and  had  not  been  much  cultivated  in  the  coun- 
try. In  mathematics  no  attempts  had  been 
made  to  cultivate  the  higher  branches  ;  what 
was  necessnry  and  applicable  to  the  affairs  and 
business  of  life,  was  generally,  and  well  under- 
Stood.  In  natural  philosophy  the  prospect  and 
attention  was  more  engagini^^  In  the  beginning 
of  the  eightcnih  century,  Kcil  had  introduced 
in  England,  the  experimental  method  of  teach- 
ing this  science.  Desaguliers  had  greatly  im- 
proved the  plan,  and  taught  it  systematically  in 
a  reguUir  course  of  expLrimeutal  lectures.  Isaac 
Greenwood,  a  young  gentleman  of  Boston,  edu- 
cated at  Harvard  College,  had  been  \%  London, 
attended  Dt  saguUtr's  kctures,  and  had  been  his 
assistant  in  the  bubiiuss.  Mr.  Hoilis,  of  London, 
in  the  year  1726,  established  a  professorship  of 
mathematics  and  natural  phiiosophy  ia  Harvartl 

VOL.   I      I   3 


'  \ 


'  % 


., 


J! 


i 


1 


i 


't  '. 


^, 


i'   ' 


! 


/    I 


I 


^l,i 


u 


l;.'! 


^62 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


College,  purchased  an  apparatus  and  sent  Green- 
wood as  his  professor  to  Cambridge.  Green- 
wood of  course  introduced  the  business  at  Har- 
vard College,  in  the  advanced  state  tlic  science 
bad  assumed  at  London.  A  taste  for  this  sci- 
ence being  thus  introduced,  it  became  the  fa- 
vorite study  oi  the  young  gentlemen  who  were 
under  a  course  of  education  ;  but  as  no  indivi- 
dual had  any  philosophical  instruments,  it  was 
seldom  pursued  any  further  than  a  course  of  aca- 
demical education  had  carried  it.  In  astronomy 
the  attention  had  been  carried  a  little  higher. 
Ill  1694,  Brattle  began  to  make  some  astronomi- 
cal observations  at  Cambridge.  Robie  pursued 
the  same  business,  and  Winthrop  was  attentive 
and  accurate  in  observing  the  celestial  phcnome- 
TiSL,  Godfrey,  at  Philadelphia,  by  the  strength 
cJf  an  untaught  genius,  discovered  the  sextant, 
which  now  bears  the  name  of  Hadley.  The 
observations  and  the  names  of  these  gentlemen, 
appear  to  advantage  in  the  transactions  of  the 
Royal  Society  of  London. 

In  natural  historv  some  useful  observations 
and  accounts  had  been  published  relative  to  the 
weather,  climate,  vegetables  and  animals,  in 
Carolina,  Virginia,  Pennsylvania,  New  York 
and  Massachusetts  ;  some  of  them  were  by  na- 
tiv^es  of  the  colonies,  but  tne  most  by  persons 
who  came  from  Europe  to  reside  in  the  coun- 
try. Classical  knowledge  was  taught  with  repu^ 
tation  and  success  in  the  Colleges,  and  by  the 
grammar  schools.  All  the  men  of  education 
had  been  instructed  and  were  acquainted  with' 
the  works  of  some  of  the  most  eminent  orators 
and  poets  of  antiquity.    Colleges   had    been 


HISTORY   OF    VERMONT.      463 


founded  at  Cambridp^e,  New  Haven,  Williams- 
burg, Princeton,  Philadelphia  and  New  York, 
But  the  genius  of  the  country  hnd  not  been  em- 
ployed in  attempting  any  conbiderablc  produc- 
tions in  poetry,  oratory,  or  the  fine  arts.  In 
one  article  however,  the  New  England  colonie* 
exceeded  the  customs  and  attainments  of  Eu- 
rope :  In  every  considerable  town  they  had  a 
gi'ammar  school,  and  all  the  children  were 
taught  to  read,  write,  and  go  through  the  com- 
mon rules  of  arithmetic  ;  and  nothing  was  more 
uncommon  or  disreputable,  than  to  be  unac- 
quainted with  these  arts.  This  was  the  knowl- 
edge the  colonies  most  of  all  needed,  and  this 
they  had  made  universal  ;  much  further  they 
could  scarcely  expect  to  go,  while  destruction 
was  every  where  around  them.  War,  French 
and  Indian  war  and  ravages,  engaged  the  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  country  ;  exhausted  her  finan- 
ces, and  required  her  constant  attention  and  ex- 
ertion. And  while  this  was  the  case,  neither  the 
resources,  the  attention,  or  the  genius  of  the 
country,  could  be  much  applied  to  the  pursuit 
or  cultivation  of  science.  The  men  who  sat 
down  to  contemplate  such  matters,  would  have 
their  attention  forced  to  other  subjects  ;  they* 
must  fly,  or  like  Archimedes  be  slain  over  their 
problems  ;  and  in  almost  every   process  they 

might  say  of  their  country multo  spuman- 

tem  sanguine  ccrno. 

The  same  cause  that  thus  proved  unfriendly 
to  morals  and  science,  was  also  greatly  injuria 
oUs  to  the  population  of  the  country.  In  the 
English  colonies  it  was  found  from  the  registers 
pf  life  and  death  which-had  been  kept  in  son^c 


,  ! 


;  i 


7 


i  I 


'  I, 


f  1 


)■' 


i'>  , 


n .? 


!|t 


'i     I 


V 


.1 


ij 


I!- 


1'^ 


464         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 

of  their  oldest  towns,  that  the  number  of  yean 
in  which  the  inhabitants  by  their  natural  increase 
"Would  double  their  numbers,  did  not  amount  to 
more  than  twenty  four,  or  at  most  twenty  five 
years.  Such  observations  lead  to  the  most  flat- 
tering calculations,  respecting  the  future  popu- 
lation and  number  of  the  people  ;  but  in  most 
of  the  colonies,  these  calculations  entirely  failed. 
In  none  of  the  provinces  were  the  people  more 
industrious,  sober,  or  agricultural,  than  in  Mas- 
sachusetts and  New  Hampshire.  In  the  year 
1713,  it  was  found  that  there  was  not  double  the 
number  of  people  in  Massachusetts  to  what 
there  was  in  1675.  The  same  was  found  to  be 
the  case  in  1762  ;  at  that  time  the  number  of 
inhabitants  had  not  doubled  from  the  year 
1722.*  The  sai;ne  observation  applied  with  still 
gi  eater  forep  to  New  Hampshire..  The  cause 
could  not  be  found  ^n  emigration  ;  nor  did  it 
arise  from  any  ynco^pimon  mortality  or  sickness. 
Nothing  of  this  nature  had  taken  place  in  either 
of  those  provinces,  except  the  losses  occasioned 
among  the  children  by  the  disorder  called  the 
throat  distemper ^  in  1735  and  1736  ;  and  this 
was  local,  and  of  a  short  duration.  The  cause 
was  in  the  constant  state  of  war,  in  which  those 
provinces  were  involved.  From  1675,  when 
the  Indian  war  under  Philip  first  began,  to  1713, 
five  or  six  thousand  of  the  youth  of  the  country 
perished  by  the  enemy,  or  by  sickness  con- 
tracted in  the  service.  From  that  time  to  the 
conquest  of  Canada,  there  were  constant  calls 
T^ipon  the  young  men  to  engage  either  in  often- 
§ive  or  defensive  service.     The  numbers  that 

*  Hutchinson's  Hist.  Macsachnsettt,  Vol.  2,  p.  1%^. 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      465 

perished  in  thefse  services  were  unavoidably  great. 
If  we  may  judge  from  the  course  of  things  in 
the  colonies,  nine  out  of  ten  of  these  young  men 
would  have  been  fathers  of  families.  Cut  off 
and  wasted  awav  bv  an  incessant  scene  of  war, 
the  population  of  the  whole  country  was  checked 
and  prevented.  At  the  end  of  fifty  years,  for 
every  young  man  slain  in  the  wars  the  loss  oc- 
casioned to  the  country  was  nearly  four  inhabi- 
tants ;  so  many  more  would  probably  have  been 
found  in  the  country  at  the  end  of  that  period, 
had  the  colonies  remained  in  a  state  of  peace 
and  tranquility. 

On  the  agriculture ^  the  settlement  and  culti- 
vation of  the  country,  the  effect  of  war  was  still 
more  pernicious.  The  most  important  of  all 
pursuits  to  the  colonies,  was  the  settlement  of 
their  country.  On  this  depended  their  defence, 
their  strength  and  their  existence.  In  the  most 
peaceable  and  quiet  times,  this  was  a  matter  of 
much  difficulty,  hardship,  labor  and  suffering. 
To  collect  together  a  company  qualified  and 
disposed  for  such  enterprise  ;  to  quit  the  ease 
ai:d  enjoyments  of  domestic  peace  and  abun- 
dance ;  to  carry  their  families  through  the  woods, 
mountains,  rivers  and  swamps,  where  tnere  was 
no  road  or  track  ;  to  construct  huts  of  logs  and 
the  bark  of  trees,  lO  cut  down  the  woods  and 
open  the  lando  to  the  influence  of  the  sun  and 
the  air  ;  to  fence,  sow,  reap  and  gather  their 
crops  ;  this  was  the  beginning  of  the  scene,  and 
a  series  of  difficulties  which  must  in  some  meas- 
ure be  gone  through  the  first  year  of  their  re- 
moval. They  had  then  to  watch  and  gunrd  th'  ir 
cuttle  and  their  crops  against  the  ravages  of  th^ 


'7 
I 


I 


I 


I 


*  I 


i'^ 


'i' 


i 

g 
! 


?    ! 


I 


r  i 


■    ;, 


466 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


bears,  wolves  and  other  ferocious  animals,  with 
which  the  country  every  where  abounded  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  to  raise  tlicir  provisions  and 
make  their  raiment.  In  the  best  possible  state 
of  thin.^s  this  was  a  scene  of  hard  living,  of  hard 
labor  and  great  suffering  ;  and  it  was  not  in  a 
less  period  than  five  or  six  years,  that  the  new 
settlers  could  procure  the  necessaries  of  life  in 
such  quantities  as  to  be  comfortable  ;  or  in  any 
considerable  degree  to  be  free  from  the  danger 
and  suffering  of  hunger  and  nakedness. 

Against  these  difficulties  however,  thev 
struggled  with  success,  and  in  a  few  years  found 
their  circumstances  more  comfortable  and  en- 
couruging.  But  when  a  war  broke  out,  their 
dangers  and  their  sufferings  often  seemed  to  be 
without  measure,  and  without  end.  An  attack 
was  suddenly  made  upon  one  of  their  settle- 
ments, when  the  inhabitants  were  unprepared 
for  defence,  and  without  suspicion  of  danger. 
The  first  notice  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 
Would  be  about  break  of  day  ;  the  Indians  would 
assault  every  house  at  the  same  time,  slay  such 
of  the  inhabitants  as  made  any  resistance,  lead 
the  others  away  prisoners,  burn  the  houses  and 
buildings,  and  slaughter  all  their  cattle.  In  this 
way,  several  of  the  plantations  were  destroyed, 
rebuilt,  destroyed  again  and  then  resettled. 
These  were  scenes  to  whicli  every  part  of  the 
frontiers  were  exposed,  at  the  breaking  out  of 
every  war.  The  effect  was,  the  most  advanced 
settlements  were  broken  up  every  war  ;  the  in- 
Jiabitants  returned  to  the  old  towns,  and  all  thai 
|heir  labor  and  suflerings  had  procured  for  many 
years,  was  often  swept  away  in  one  day.     It  \m\'^ 


V...;i 


HISTORY  OF   VERMONT.      46T 


impossible  that  the  settlement  of  the  country 
should  proceed  with  its  natural  progress,  in  such 
a  state  of  things.  And  hence  the  colonies  were 
obliged  to  adopt  a  debilitating  caution,  reserve,' 
and  slowness,  in  making  their  advances,  and 
extending  their  settlements  into  the  country. 

In  the  year  1752,  a  proposal  was  made  to  ef- 
fect a  settlement  on  the  rich  lands  at  Coos,  on 
Gonnecticut  river.  It  was  proposed  to  hiy  out 
one  township  on  the  east  side,  and  another  on 
the  west,  at  the  place  now  called  Newbury,  in 
Vermont.  The  governors  of  Massachusetts 
and  New  Hampshire  approved  of  the  proceed, 
ings,  and  a  large  number  of  persons  engaged  in 
the  enterprise.  A  party  of  men  were  sent  up' 
the  river  in  the  spring,  to  view  the  lands,  and 
lay  out  the  proposed  townships.  Some  of  the 
Indians  of  the  St.  Francois  tribe  observed  their 
motions,  suspected  their  design,  and  forbade 
their  proceedings  ;  at  the  same  time  they  sent 
a  message  to  the  commander  of  the  fort  at  Num- 
ber Four,  informing  him  that  they  would  not 
suiFer  the  English  to  settle  at  Coos.  The  In- 
dian mandate  was  communicated  to  the  gover- 
nors of  the  two  English  provinces,  and  such  was 
tlicir  fear  of  the  Indians,  that  they  meekly  and 
quietly  laid  aside  the  whole  business.  To  such 
mortifying  disgrace  and  caution,  was  the  agri- 
culture, the  settlement  and  the  cultivation  of  the 
country,  constantly  subject.  And  yet  on  these, 
the  safety,  the  weakh,  strength,  population,  and 
commerce  of  the  whole  country  depended.  Of 
all  objects  this  was  the  most  important,  to  the 
colonies  ;  and  the  men,  who  in  that  state  of 
tilings  settled  a  new  town,  did  more  important 


'  .1 


i»l  ^ 


I  i 


/  T 

1^ 


I 


*! 


i; 

I 


tl 


?   ! 


1    '■ 


I'! 


I- 


468         NATURAL  AND  CIVIL  v 

services  16  tlieir  country  and  to  mankind,  thai 
those  who  amused  all-Europe  with  an  astronomi- 
cal observation;  a  physical  experiment,  solved  a 
hew.  problem,  or  Wrote  an  elegant  poem,  or  a 
celebrated  volume  of  history  or  philosophy. 

I'he  political  effects  of  the  wars  were  also 
greatly  dangerous,  and  injurious  to  the  colonies  j 
they  kept  them  in  an  almosc  absolute  dependence 
on  the  European  powers  and  monarchs.  It  was 
not  with  an  expectation  of  deriving  any  assist- 
ance from  their  European  sovereigns,  that  the 
first  settlers  came  into  the  eastern  parts  of  Ameri- 
ca ;  it  was  to  get  rid  of  their  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority and  intolerance,  that  they  left  their  na- 
tive country.  When  they  arrived  here,  it  was 
in  consequence  of  a  patent  from  James  the  first ; 
and  they  understood  their  charter  as  a  sacred 
compact,  describing  the  grants  that  Were  made 
to  them  by  their  sovereign,  and  the  nature  of 
the  allegiance  that  they  were  to  bear  to  him. 
Their  ideas  of  civil  subjection  were  that  birth 
was  not  a  necessary  or  an  unalienable  cause  of 
submission,  to  any  civil  government ;  but  that 
when  they  left  their  native  country,  all  the  obli- 
gation they  were  under  to  the  king  of  England, 
arose  from  voluntary  compact  j  from  their  own 
agreement  and  act  in  accepting  their  patent,  and 
by  that  entering  into  a  voluntary  contract  of 
submission  and  obedience  to  the  king  of  Eng- 
land. They  had  no  doubt  but  that  the  country 
to  which  they  came,  in  respect  to  its  soil,  do- 
minion, lordship  and  sovereignty,  belonged  to 
the  Indians,  and  not  at  all  to  the  European  mon- 
archs ;  and  that  when  they  had  fairly  purchased 
these  of  the  rightful  owners,  they  had  a  right  t» 


V. 


.Ai, 


HISTORY  OF  VERMONT.      46d 


kind,  thaii 

stronomi- 

:,  solved  a 

oem,  or  a 

iophy. 

were  also 

colonies ; 

impendence 

s.     It  was 

my  assist- 

},  that  the 

of  Ameri- 

astical  au- 

;  their  na- 

:re,  it  was 

i  the  first ; 

s  a  sacred 

^ere  made 

1  nature  of 

r  to  him. 

;hat  birth 

;  cause  of 

but  that 

the  obli- 

England, 

;heir  own 

atent,  and 

)ntract  of 

of  Eng" 

country 

soil,  do- 

ongf  d  to 

lean  mon- 

urchased 

right  t» 


5ct  up  wliat  forms  of  governments  they  pleased, 
consistent  with  their  patent  and  charter,  by 
win  oh  they  had  engaged  their  future  allegiance 
to  the  king  of  England.*  Whether  these  prin- 
cij)lcs  were,  or  weie  not  in  eonforniity  to  the 
piinciplcs  of  the  English  laws  or  monarchy, 
they  were  certainly  founded  on  the  law  of  na- 
ture ;  and  were  therefore  of  an  earlier  origin, 
•and  of  a  more  y^ncred  authority  than  any  English 
law  ever  could  bj,  which  considers  birth  not 
only  as  n  local,  but  as  a  perpetual  and  unaliena- 
ble cause  of  civil  subjection. 

In  opposition  to  every  sentiment  of  this  kind,' 
the  English  kings  believed  that  every  child  born 
in  their  dominions^  or  derived  from  any  of  their 
isubjects,  belonged  to  them  ;  and  that  his  very- 
birth  implied  an  obhgation  to  constant,  perpetual 
and  unalienable  alkgiance.  In  conformity  to 
their  principles,  they  soon  discovered  that  they 
meant  to  regard  or  disannul  their  patents  as  they 
pleased ;  to  alter  or  set  aside  their  charters  ;  to 
frame,  destroy,  or  alter  the  colonial  governments 
as  they  chose  ;  and  with  tlie  concurrence  of 
their  parliaments,  "  to  bind  them  in  all  cases 
whatsoever."  It  is  not  possible  to  form  an)» 
idea  of  the  most  absolute,  despotic,  tyrannical 
power,  that  can  carry  its  claims  beyond  this. 

The  colonies,  thoiigh  holding  very  different 
political  principles^  were  not  in  a  state  to  con- 
tend with  their  sovereigns.  Surrounded  with 
enemies  and  involved  in  wars,  both  the  English 
and  French  colonies'  looked  to  their  kings  for 
assistance  ;  and  while  the  one  met  with  this 
kind  of  help,  it  became  necessary  for  the  odier 

*  Mutrhinson's  Hist.  Massachusetts,  Vol,  I,  p.ajle 
VOL,      li  K    ^ 


,'.' 


:'il 


til 


lli  •'-■1 


470 


NATURAL  AND  CIVIL 


to  seek  the  same  kind  of  assistance.  A  depen- 
dence on  and  subjection  to  the  European  powers 
and  monarchs  of  course  took  place,  which  ex- 
cluded every  idea,  and  every  desire  of  indepen- 
dence ;  and  the  colonies  viewed  their  relation 
and  connection  with  the  European  governments 
from  which  they  descended,  as  a  matter  of  ne- 
cessity, safety,  and  the  highest  honor.  The 
British  kings  and  mmisters  believed  that  the 
science  of  government  contained  such  profound 
and  sacred  mysteries,  that  the  people  could  nei- 
ther understand  nor  manage  them  :  the  people 
in  the  colonies  were  in  such  a  state  of  political 
impotency  and  submission,  that  they  were  in 
fact  looking  to  the  European  kings  and  minis- 
ters, frequently  unacquainted  with  any  part  of 
the  business,  to  manage  and  direct  their  govern- 
ments. This  dependence  of  the  colonies  on  the 
European  kings  was  attended  with  many,  and 
with  great  disadvantages.  It  embarrassed  and 
perplexed  their  own  governments,  encouraged 
the  ambitious  and  intriguing  to  be  perpetually 
complaining  and  meddling,  restrained  their  trade 
and  commerce,  prevented  the  most  necessary 
and  useful  manufactures,  subjected  them  to  inju- 
rious restraints,  confined  their  business  and 
pursuits  w  ithin  narrow  limits  ;  and  was  calcula- 
ted to  keep  their  minds  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
infancy,  inactivity  and  weakness.  And  it  was 
not  their  own  desires  and  inclinations,  but  the 
folly  and  oppressive  policy  of  the  British  minis- 
ters and  king,  that  taught  them  to  study  their 
rights,  and  to  understand  the  danger  of  submis- 
sion to  their  European  masters. 

Such  was  the  colonial  system  of  war.     Hay- 


k 

f 


A.  depen^ 
n  powers 
^hich  ex- 
indepcn- 
•  relation 
ernments 
tcr  of  ne- 
or.     The 

that  the 
profound 
ould  nei- 
ic  people 

political 

were  in 
id  minis- 
ly  part  of 
r  govern- 
ies  on  the 
lany,  and 
ssed  and 
couraged 
rpetually 
leir  trade 
lecessarj 
1  to  inju- 
less  and 

calcula- 
DcrpetuaJ 
d  it  was 

but  the 
h  minis- 
dy  their 
submis- 

.     Hay- 


r 


a. 

) 
i 


i 


HISTORY   OF  VERMONT.      471 

ing  both  an  American  and  an  European  origin, 
it  was  not  to  be  expected  but  t!!^t  from  the  one 
pr  the  other  of  these  sources,  it  would  be  almost 
perpetual  ;  and  while  it  continued  the  evils  that 
were  connected  with  its  moral,  literary,  physical, 
agricultural  and  political  effects,  could  not  be 
avoided.  In  Europe,  when  their  monarchs  wer« 
engaged  in  such  contests,  which  ever  party 
gained  an  increase  of  territory,  all  the  sovereigns 
obtained  an  increase  of  wealth,  of  power,  of  de- 
pendents, of  influence  and  authority.  It  was 
evidently  their  advantage  to  have  war  as  fre- 
quent and  constant,  as  the  finances  and  circum- 
stances of  their  kingdoms  would  admit.  In  the 
colonies  all  was  the  reverse.  The  system  of 
war  served  here  to  inflame  and  imbitter  the 
minds  of  men,  to  keep  them  unacquainted  with 
the  arts  and  sciences,  to  retard  the  population, 
and  prevent  the  settlement  of  the  country  ;  and 
to  keep  the  colonies  in  a  hurtful  and  disgrace- 
ful dependence  on  and  subjection  to  European 
kings  and  nations.  And  it  was  not  till  they  re- 
jected this  degrading  submission  and  depen- 
dence, that  they  arose  to  their  proper  rank  and 
station  among  the  nations  and  powers  of  the 
world* 


(     s 


T 

1 

1 
1 

( 


't    '1  I 


i     if   * 


! 


s-    4 


APPENDIX. 


No.  I. 

4tft  Account  of  the  Variation  of  the  Magnetic  Needle ^  in  tbt 
Eafern  States,     Chap.   i.  p.  22. 

IN  laying  out  lands  in  America,  the  dircflion  of  the  lines,  is  Kf^n- 
erally  taken  bv  the  M.«Kneiic  Ncrillp.  The  inlliunu-iiis  which  hdvr  bctti 
generally  ulcH,  arc  the  Pl.iin  I'able,  or  the  Cncuinlen'ritor,  divided  into 
degrees,  and  hticd  wnii  a  Ma(>nctic  Ntedle  o\  mioc  or  four  inches  ladius. 
Had  the  greaitlt  p'  (lib'r  carp  bcrn  taken  by  able  ni.iihennaiiciaiis,  it  wimld 
not  have  bein  polliblc  fur  ih  m-,  with  Inch  inllrunun's,  to  have  avoided 
many  errors  and  niiKdko.  Ba'  in  icriicely  any  inllance  has  the  variation 
of  the  needle  been  known,  or  at  all  uicnded  to.  Many,  and  alir.oU  end- 
lefs  conlrovcrfics  and  lawfuits.  have  ari!en  Irom  this  caule.  In  many  in- 
fianccs  no  daa  could  be  found,  by  whicii  it  was  poll'ible  to  come  loa  juft 
decilion  ;  the  variation  of  il:e  M?i;ntLic  Needle,  at  the  times  when  thccon- 
tcllcd  lines  w.rc  run,  being  unknown.  On  fucli  accounts,  ti»e  knowledge 
of  the  Magnetic  variations  in  tlie  inland  paiis  of  -\  incrica,  i«  become  a  mat- 
ter of  grem  importance  'o  the  pctiple  ;  llieir  ujt'.rtll  and  propcity  iii  many 
cafe.shciig  much  alKtted  by  it. 

From  the  year  J3C2  me  dirtflivc  power  of  the  Maf^net  has  been  em- 
ployed with  great  lucci:'.'.,  111  tl)'.  afTj'irs  of  navi^i  tion.  Biitthc  (it  11  account 
that  we  have  of  an',  i^blervcd  vjriation  in  its  dii'ftii)ri,  was  by  Columbus, 
in  the  year  1490,  in  hia  liril  voyage  to  rni.iica.  Until  ttiat  tim?,  philo- 
fophers  nnitornily  believed  thai  the  pole  (^t  the  Ma^i.ct,  cxjftly  cou.cided 
wit!)  the  poic  ol  the  earih  ;  and  ihey  had  no  idea  of  any  luch  tliin,>  as  a 
variation,  .'.midlk  -.if  unrommon  (cci.>s  Ct  d.fficu'ty  which  oppclcd  the 
views,  and  «xeici!c'!  tiiC  genius  of  *.lif  dir^.vMir  t  America,  when  he  had 
advanced  two  hundred  leagues  wcfl  cf  the  Canarv/  Ifl.ricis,  nis  ci.tnpa's  be- 
gnn  to  fail  h'ln  ;  and  it  was  lounrl  no  10  u  int  o  ilie  [)oIeoftlie  ear-.li,  or 
exiifl'V  nrrth.  but  one  degree  to  fie  v,\  ell  of  uha'  poi  it.  rf.)m  ih.ii  time 
the  vaiiat''!ii  bogan  to  be  obleivcd,  ana  bee  mc  more  and  moie  known. 
For  ihr  laf»  c(ntor\  and  a  halt,  matl)cma;icians  have  made  it  a  regular  part 
of  their  bufuiets  to  obferve  it,  in  diiFcnn;  parts  of  tiie  earth  ;  wicii  ibca/t- 
pafl/ altera. ions  tnat  are  conilantiy  taking  p'arc. 

In  the  year  1723,  a  very  accurate  oblervc,  C,.  Graham,  of  London,  dif- 
covcred  that  the  magnetic  needle  had  a  diurnal,  as  acI!  as  an  annual  varia- 
tion. And  it  is  now  well  known  to  p'niiotopherf,  that  irom  <:bout  (ight 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  Magnetic  Needle  verges  to  the  weft,  urjiil  a- 
bout  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  When  it  hai attained  itsgriaicft  well- 
ward  variation,  it  gradually  returns  to  the  eaft,  until  about  eight  or  nine 
o'clock  in  the  evening  ;  when  it  becomes  (laiionary,  uitiiil  the  next  morn- 
ing. Tables  exprelTive  of  this  drurnal  vai  iation  are  become  Cf;mmon ;  and 
are  to  be  found  in  the  iranfadions  of  all  philofophical  focicties.  Thus  irj 
the  moft  regular  flate  of  the  Magnetic  Needle,  it  is  conftanily  fubjcdt  to 
twfo  variations  ;   an  annual  •m\A  a  diurnal  one. 

The  cffeft  of  thefe  variations  are  at  all  times  fuch,  that  the  Magnetic 
Needle  can  never  give  to  the  (uiveyor  who  follows  its  dircftions,  a  (Iraight 
or  an  accurate  line.  AnA  it  ought  not  to  be  uCcd  at  all,  where  the  bulinef) 
jequircs  great  accuracy  and  precifion.  It  is  however  fcaicely  practicable  :q 
America,  to  fubflitute  any  thing  better  in  the  room  of  it :  Molt  of  the  lines 
wjiich  have  been  already  run  l)y  futvcyors,  were  ruu  by  (he  Needle  \  ikvi 


i      ' 


In' 


• 


•   I 


11 


I 


1    ' 

i ; 

^'    , 

■iji 

( , 

I  ^ 

1  I 

, 

I   i 

1 

k  ^ 

i 


•>!/ 


Nil 

'^1 


j| 


474 


APPENDIX. 


ii  mueli  the  aioft  convenient  inftrument  that  can  be  earr'tedi  or  ufrd  lO  tn^ 

woodt ;  (he  cxprnce  of  tunning  linea  any  other  wavi  would  be  too  greit 
for  individual!  to  bear  ;  and  the  rurve>ori  arc  not  qualified  lo  run  them  bv 
the  true  meridian.  For  Tuch  reafoni  it  is  probable  ihat  the  Magnetic  Nee« 
die  will  llill  continue  in  be  the  inllrument,  by  which  the  liriea  will  be  run, 
and  the  townfhipa  be  laid  o'lt  in  America  Wc  mult  therefore  en* 
dcavor  to  provide  the  bed  rtmrdy  we  can,  for  an  error  or  evil,  which  wc 
Cannot  tafily  remove.  The  belt  remrdy  which  the  caleadmitaof,  ii  anao 
curair  ub<etvation  ^f  the  variation  of  the  Magnetic  Nerdie.at  the  time  when 
di .  ifional  linri  are  tun.  Thit  (liould  be  done  bv  able  maihcmauciana,and 
in  a.>  many  placriin  a  (late,  at  may  be.  Such  oblervationa  will  utiord  the 
Iw'.l  direiliuii,  lurveyora  will  be  able  to  find,  to  enable  them  to  determine 
what  it  the  real  ot  true  dite£lion  nf  their  .Magnetic  linct. — It  it  with  this 
view,  that  the  followinfj  Table  is  lubjoined. 

Mitjinctic  Observations  made  in  Canudu,  and  the  Etntetn  States  of  Amtrica. 


Btd.c 


Place. 


-3 


Quebec. 


Three  Rivers* 
Montreal. 

■ 

;  North  line  of  Vt.  so 
'  mileseaftof  Con  liv. 

JNonh  line  of  Vt.at 
Conncdicut  iivcr> 
Burliiigtoo. 
.^    .  Rutland. 
**    1  Pownala 

/   Prnobfcot  bay. 

I  Paioblcot,    fort 
^  )  Pownal. 
3  /  Falmouth. 
"*  /  Kiitery  point. 


\  Portfmouth. 


6 

^  >Hinfdale. 


IJ 


f  rCewburyport, 
Beverly. 
Cambridge. 


^ 


[; 


s 


Wrentham,at  Angle 
Tree. 
r-Northeafl  corner  of 
;;!  J  Rhode  Irtand. 
^   C  Pi'ovidence. 
Maitford  in  ConneAicut. 
r  Northweft  corner  of 
^  I  the  Oblong. 

H 


Time. 

'649 
1686 


Oftober 
Augufl 


1785 
'743 

'7-19 
»785 

»785 


May  13,  >8o6 
March  3,  1  793 
April  17,  1789 
Sept.  30,  1786 

June  15,  »0o5 

July  18,  1761 
1763 

177» 

1771 

1772 

Auguft  6,  ;78« 
Auguft  2, 178 
1742 

1757 

176;^ 

June  90,  178' 

June    4,    1788 

April  7,   178.5 


June 


1741 
1764 


Sept.  i8,  1786 

Sept.  25,  1786 
1686 

I  »724 

[Sept.  18,1750 


Vrffiauon 

t)t.M  r  (>. 

16" 

0' v\' 

'5 

3=> 

Dct.    Ha  yet. 

la 

30 

■\  Holland, Sur. 

la 

5 

V  vryoiGcncral 

9 

3' 

J  o{  Canada. 

10 

38 

.\(    GiUion. 

8 

«4 

Holland. 

7 

40 

Whitlaw,  S.  G. 

9 

0 

Dr.  Williams. 

7 

38 

1 

7 

3 

L  Dr.  Williams 

6 

5» 

J 

11 

«5 

Weymouth, 

8 

7 

0 
45 

>  lii.  Winlhrof 

7 

46 

Holland. 

7 

48 

Holland. 

6 

0 

Wright. 

7 

18 

Dr.  Williams, 

7 

a 

Dr.  Willard. 

8 

0 

1 

7 

20 

L  Dr.Winthrojp 

7 

0 

3 

6 
6 

46 
38 

S  Dr.Williair.s. 

5 

46 

Dr.  Williams. 
Cm».  f.  r,  t.  1, 

7 

30 

b.R.  I.  &Maj. 

6 

3^ 

Dr.  West. 

5 

«5 

Dr.  Williams. 

5 

3 

Dr.  Williams. 

8 

45 

Wells,  S.  (i. 

7 

ao 

Gov.  Bumt^. 

6 

82 

Alexander, 

:  1 


APPENDIX. 


47, 


Dr.Williairj. 


No.     II. 

Chfrifatiotit  on  thi  chanjft  ofClittatt  in  Eunpe  and  otker  places. 

Chat.  IV.  p.  80. 

THE  change  of  cliinice  whiili  li'<  (ikcn  pla^e  in  North  Amrrica« 
Iiai  been  a  mattrr  of  condam  obrcivatiOn  and  rxpertence.  It  frrms  tabe 
the  umvrrial  opinion  of  hiiloriani  <' (i  piiilofop^iersi  llu'  there  hi*  bren  ^ 
more  remarkable  chai  '(*  ot  ciimaic  (hroij(;hout  all  Europe.  There  are 
fevrral  nhcnomena  fium  which  it  may  be  Ihowii  with  much  certainty,  that 
this  hai  been  the  cafe  in  Icveral  pljcri. 

In  the  land  of  faledine,  about  the  latitude  of  30  or  31  degreri.  north* 
tbc  author  of  the  book  ot  Job  makci  ufe  of  fuch  langua^^e  at  thii,  "  Haft 
thou  eatered  into  the  treafurca  of  the  (now  ?  Or  halt  thou  feen  theirealurra 
of  the  hail  ? — Out  of  whofe  womb  came  the  ire  ? — And  the  hoary  frollnf 
heaven,  who  ha'h  gendered  it  ? — The  waUn  are  kid  at  with  a  Jlone,  and  the 
jaitof  the  diep  u  frozen"  Job  xxxviii.  fta.  291  30.  Thefe  are  probably 
the  words  ot  Nlofes  ;  and  they  are  exprelTivc  of  that  degree  of  coid,  ia 
which  the  furface  of  water  is  fo  Arongly  frozen  aa  to  conceal  it*  f]aidit''( 
and  refemblr  the  confidence  and  hardnefs  of  (lone.  The  decree  of  heat  la 
which  thia  eff(£)  takes  place  in  rivers,  ponds  and  large  colleAiona  of  water) 
I  have  generally  found  to  be  about  35  degreeaof  Farenheit'a  thermometer! 
with  a  duration  of  a  week  or  ten  days.  We  (hall  not  therefore  be  far  from 
the  truth,  if  we  conclude  that  the  extremity  of  the  cold  in  the  land  of  Mi- 
dian,  could  not  have  been  iefathan  S5  degrees,  in  the  days  of  Mofes  :  And 
that  fuch  a  cold,  was  of  fome  days  duration.  Such  was  the  degree,  and  the 
iffeli  ot  the  cold  in  the  land  of  the  Midianites,  about  3?,^  centuries  ago. 

In  the  writings  of  David  wc  have  alfo  a  defcriplion,  of  what  was  ellcem- 

;:d  a  fevere  feafon.  •'  He  j^iveth  fnow  like  wool :  He  fcatiereth  the  hoar 
roft  like  afhes.  He  cajletk  forth  his  ice  like  morfcls :  Who  can  (land  before 
his  cold  ?"  Pfalm  cxlvii.  16,  17  This  account  muH  have  been  written 
it  leaft  28^  centuries  ago.  The  JanguBge  of  the  poet  docs  very  (Irongly 
cxprefs  the  etfefl,  which  the  cold  had  on  the  feelings  of  men  in  that  warm 
Aliniate.  But  the  account  which  he  gives  of  the  appearance  and  form  of 
thb  ice,  denotes  a  Ids  degrer  of  cold  than  what  took  place  in  the  days  of 
Mofes.  Whtn  the  degree  ot  heat  is  but  31  degrics  of  Farenheit's  ther- 
mometer, the  ice  may  appear  to  becj(f  into  the  form  of  morfels  and  cryf- 
lals  :  And  this  fceras  to  have  been  the  grcateft  dcj^rec  of  confillence,  cxtenC 
and  hardnefs,  in  which  the  poet  had  cither  feen  it,  or  conceived  of  it.  It 
{hoiild  feem  therefore  that  from  the  time  of  Mofes  to  David,  the  cold  had 
abated  in  the  land  of  Paleffine  :  That  four  centuries  before,  it  hid  the  wa- 
ters as  with  a  flone,  and  caufed  the  face  of  the  deep  to  be  frozen  :  But  that 
now  it  only  calf  out  the  ice  like  morfels  or  cryllals.  Th^  difference 
the  degree  of  cold  nccefTary  to  produce  thefe  cfTcftj,  is  about  6  degrees. 

We  have  here  an  account  of  the  climate  in  the  land  of  Faledine,  fo  far 
back  as  28  and  32  centuries.  Inftrad  of  treafurcs  of  fnow,  hail,  and  ice,a 
frozen  deep,  and  cold  which  can  fcarcc  be  flood  before,  the  inhabitants  oE 
that  country  now  find  a  hot,  fultry  climate  ;  in  which  fnow  and  ice  arc 
iiever  feen.  Wc  have  not  an  account  of  any  meteorological  oblervationi 
made  a:  the  places,  where  Mofes  and  David  lived.  The  climate  is  proba« 
bly  much  the  fame  at  thofe  places,  asiti.t  in  others  of  a  fimilar  latitude  and 
situation.  We  may  therefore  make  ufe  of  thofe  which  have  been  made  at 
Grand  Cairo,  as  the  moff  applicable,  and  the  bcft  which  we  can  find,  to 
give  us  an  idea  of  the  temperature  of  the  winter  in  thofe  parts  of  the  globe. 
Stand  Cairo  lies  in  tbc  latitude  of  30?  ncrth.    According  to  Mr.  TT icbur's 


1     ) 
i 


i 


if 


I 


f   ' 


'I: 


H\imi\ 


1  ! 


ii 


'i|  *  H 


U. 


(I 


'■•       (5 


i      I 


rl 


^M 


11 


v> 


I 


476 


APPENDDC. 


obrrrvafions  rm^e  thcrr  in  the  vrars  \y(^^  a'd  i  762.  tfie  mean  Iieat  ot 
ihifc  v'ars  was  73'  6^5  Thr  i^icki  I  .'.u,  in  the  ui.inih  of  JarniHrv  was 
57°  ;  iliat  f)f  Fl"'>v  lar.  -vd-.  G  ,"  *  it  '.s  init  l"cl(1om  :'';ii  inn  in  an  ban  oF 
itic  fc\;  r'!t  week  iii  liic  wint  r,  talla  itMic  ihar.  7  ur  8  o^  ;;r<-'  ,  beliiw  ihe 
mtaii  i(  mpora'dit  of  ihr  wnult"  m-iii'h.  This  wiil  i^ive  /jc)  (i'-i-rrcs,  as  the 
m'.aii  ciiipciatHrc  oHhf  Trvrrcit.  vvcels.  in  ihc  wiiict  at  G'jnd  Cairo.  And 
^hiscjniv  t  bf  p/otiv  d  liVrcru  Jrom  ihc  temperature  of  ih.  win'cr.  in  ihe 
*and  of  Palilliiie.  From  this  way  of  coi>ii)i;'ation,  wf  Ihal!  h.ive  2^]  de- 
gicc»  of  Farenheit's  ihcrmorrctcr,  as  ihe  ahciation  which  has  taken  jJacc 
in  ihe  d-vcrity  of  ihp  winters  in  that  coiin(rv.  fmcc  ihc  'imc  of  Mo  e:. 

The  cHnidtp  in  I'alv  i'  3Im>  found  to  be  very  diifv;rent  now,  l:v)iri  what 
it  was  18  centuries  a^,n.  Vtrjiiljihe  cclcbraird  poet,  was  diilimruillicdnlfo 
by  his  knowledge  in  agrlciiltuie.  In  his  Gcorgics  he  is  frequently  giving 
advice  for  tlie  fecuri'y  of  eaulv.',  afiTind  the  dangerous  cff.-cts  of  ice  and 
fnow.  His  dirfdnoiis  were  dcrigii,:d  for  the  country  round  Mantua  or 
Nan'r;:,  his  iiaiive  place,  in  the  Intiiudc  of  41  °.  Meniitriing  Calabria,  the 
moil  lou'hf-rn  part  f)f  Itah,  tie  Ipeaks  nf  tue  freezing  of  the  rivers,  as  an 
event  that  was  cominonU  in  h(  cxpctfcd.  Pliny,  Juvenal,  and  jiiiian, 
■Writers  in  .he  full  niid  (.coi.'c!  crnluri'-s,  fpcaU  n^  ice  and  fnow  as  what 
was  eoiniron  in  It.ilv.  Our  o\  their  wiiteis,  ALl.?.r\,  has  a  chapter  whicii 
confills  alfoufther  of  iiiduiCfions  hnw  10  fi'h  lor  eel',  vhcn  the  water  is 
coveied  wiili  ice.  The  dci'rre  of  co!d  ncciflj' \  to  i  fF';6t:  this,  cannot  be 
rUimated  at  a  Icfs  , degree  than  25.  From  the  metenf^looica!  obfcrvationi 
which  were  made  at  Rome  in  the  \^i\r  I'j^-'.  and  178J1  it  appeals  that  the 
mean  beat  in  ihe  month  of  J.i'iuary  '•''  thac  pr.co,  is  udw  ifi  Liegrccs  ;  and 
tiiat  the  mean  heat  of  thccolrlelt  w;ek  in  tlic  winter  was  42  degrees ;+  17 
degrees  greaitr  than  that,  in  which  tliC  pcimsncnt  tVeezitig  ot  riv»rs  lal^cs 
j>lacc.  The  change  ol  climate  thenforc  in  Italy  during  the  iatf  18  centu- 
ries, cannot  have  been  lels  than  17  rlegrees  ;  but  from  the  inaccuracy  ot  the 
ancient  accounts  ii  may  liave  been  mun  more. 

A  fimilar  chanj'^c  has  taken  phice  in  the  rountiv  round  Conftantinople, 
and  the  Euxinc  or  P^hckSca.  Thii  we  colhcl  from  the  works  of  Ovid. 
This  celebrated  poet  was  baniltiid  to  Toiri'is,  by  the  Roman  emperor. 
This  place  is  in  the  latitudeof  44"  ;  and  ites  near  the  coaff  ot  the  Euxiiie 
Sea.  The  poet  fpcnt  fcvcn  years  in  his  banillnnieni  .'.t  this  pliice.  abuulthc 
niid'Hc  of  the  (:i(l  contury.  He  informs  us  thac  he  faw  t!ie  Euxine  Sea 
cnverfd  with  ice  :  Ti-.a'  he  walked  upon  ihij  ire  ;  an-)  that  oxen  and  car- 
ri.'^ges  p.ifT-d  over  it.  He  goes  tjrthf  r.  and  .idiU,  tliat  when  he  called  for 
wine  in  a  fcvcrc  feafon,  it  was  prelentcn  10  hun  m  a  Itate  of  congelation  : 
And  that  the  (now  in  many  place.',  w.'s  never  (liiruUed  durin?:;  the  fur..mer 
ieafon.  Tourncfoit  o'.ilc  rves  that  in  ihi'  days  of  Conllantine,  the  flreight  of 
Byzantium  was  frozen  over  :  And  that  in  the  year  401,  ihe  KuxineSca  was 
covcied  wiiii  ire  tor  20  days  logeihcr.  We  ha^'e  not  any  meteorological 
cbicrvations  10  Kate  with  cx;if.tiie('s,  what  the  prefcnt  tempcra.ure  ot  ihat 
ciimaie  is.  But  nothing  would  be  more  uiie.omrnon  and  extraordinary, 
than  io  iee  this  fe»  frt>zon  over  r.  >vv.  In  iC/i;.  t^e  Turks  were  greatly 
aflonillied  ai  the  aon'ai.ii'ce  of  (nvnc  ice  at  Conlfariiinople  :  .'^nd  in  all  the 
adi.t'nt  country,  inltciid  of  a  lio?.rn  (ea,  frozen  wine,  and  perpetual  inow, 
tiicv  have  row  a  line  modeiae  warm  cllrr.aie  ;  one  ot  the  molt  luxuiiant, 
Ind  dtlighlfu!,  that  is  to  be  found  npufi  the  face  ol  ih-:  eaith.  So  lar  as  wc 
tan  judge  from  tfi?  g-ifral  p'tui  .miii;i,  the  t.  hsnge  of  the  ciiraatc  tlicrc, 
hm  bL'tn  luUy  equal  10  vM:3t  nas  tak,  li  place  in  Kaly, 

*  Voyage,  Vol.  I. 

■f  Epbcmi,  iijc.  Meter.  Pilat.Obfcrvaiioties  Romans', Tom.  II&IU* 


APPENDIX. 


477 


;  mean  ficat  of 
)f  jariiis'v  was 
r  III  an  h<;;ii  of 
I  re  J  bcliiw  ihe 
I  c)'-!'rres,  as  the 
lid  Cairo,    And 

wiD'cr.  in  ihe 
all  have  84  de- 
has  taken  jJacc 
.'  of  M"  e:. 
iiw,  tit>in  what 
iltin^uilhcdnU'o 
'  qucntly  giving 
•cts  of  ice  and 
md  Mantua  or 
(ij;  Calabria,  the 
the  rivers,  as  an 
lal.  and  j£!ian, 
i  fnow  as  what 
a  chapter  whicti 
icn  the  water  is 
;  this,  cannot  be 
cal  obfcrvationj 

appears  thai  ihe 
,6  Degrees  ;  and 
j2  degrees  ;+  17 
jT  ct  riv(  rs  lakes 
he  iart  18  ccntu- 
naccuracy  ot  the 

Conftantinople, 

works  of  Ovid. 

oiiiati  eniperor. 

lU  ot  the  Euxine 

pliice.  abuutthe 

the  Euxine  Sea 

[at  oxen  and  car- 

n  he  called  for 

of  congelation  : 

id';  the  fur..mer 

c,  the  (Ireight  of 

KuxipeSea  was 

iTicteo!ologic:i?. 

pcra.ure  ol  iliat 

extraordinary, 

[ks    were  greatly 

And  in  all  the 

perpetual  fnow, 

moif  luxuriant, 

I.     So  jar  as  wc 

climate  there, 


Ixom.  II&III. 


,  The  feme  alteration  ha$  bet n  obferved  irpon  the  Alpi  and  Appcninej, 
Thcfe  arc  the  higheft  mountains  in  Europe,  and  divide  Italy  from  France, 
Switzerland  and  Germany.  The  march  of  Hannibal's  army  over  thcfe 
mountains,  was  one  of  the  moft  memorable  exploits  of  antiquity.  la 
their  accounts  of  it,  Livy  and  Polvbius  in  almoft  every  line,  are  mention- 
ing  the  extreme  difBculty  and  fufFerings  which  arofe  from  the  fcvcrc  frofts, 
ice  and  fnow.  Thcfe  mountains  are  cafily  palled  now.  Armies  have  fre- 
quently eroded  them  without  any  uncommon  fufFerings,  from  the  time  of 
Francis  the  f^rft.* 

The  change  of  climate  has  been  alfo  very  remarkable  in  Germany.  Two 
•ircumltances  have  marked  this  with  certainty.  By  the  account  of  Dio- 
dorus  Siculus:  1.  *'  The  great  rivers  which  covered  the  Roman  provin- 
ecs,  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube,  were  frequently  frozen  over,  and  capable 
of  fupporting  the  moft  enormous  weights.  The  barbarians  who  often 
chofe  that  fevere  fcafon  for  their  inroads,  tranfportcd  without  apprehcnfioa 
or  danger,  their  numerous  armies,  their  cavalry,  and  their  heavy  waggons 
over  a  vaft  and  folid  bridge  of  ice.  Modern  ages  have  not  prefcnted  an  in- 
flanccof  a  like  phenomenon.  9.  The  reindeer,  that  ufeful  animal,  from 
whom  the  favage  of  the  north  derives  the  bed  comfort  of  his  dreary  life, 
is  of  a  ccnftitution  that  fupports  and  even  requires  the  moft  intenfe  cold. 
He  is  found  on  the  rock  of  Spitzberg,  within  ten  degrees  of  the  pole  ;  he 
iieems  to  delight  in  the  fnows  of  Lapland  and  Siberia.  But  at  prefent  he 
cannot  fubfjft,  much  lefs  multiply  in  any  country  to  the  fouth  of  the  Baltic. 
In  the  time  of  Csefar,  the  reindeer,  as  well  as  the  elk  and  the  wild  bull* 
was  a  native  of  the  Hcrcynian  foreft,  which  then  overfhadowed  a  great  parC 
«f  Germany  and  Poland. "+ 

J  Thcfe  accounts  will  afTift  us  to  form  fomc  general  idea  of  the  climate  o£ 
Germany  at  that  time.  The  freezing  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube  is  men* 
tioned,  as  an  event  that  was  annually  to  be  cxpcdlcd  ;  what  the  barbarians 
always  found  to  take  place  in  the  fevere  feafon  ;  and  to  fuch  a  degree,  as  to 
afford  them  a  certain  and  a  fafe  pafTagc  for  the  heavicft  burthens,  and  for 
the  largeft  armies.  This  account  of  the  ft.-ength,  firmncfs,  and  duration  o£ 
»he  ice,  conveys  the  idea  of  a  winter  equal  in  all  its  eflefts,  to  that  which 
takes  place  in  the  uncultivated  parts  of  North  America.  The  rivers  are 
here  conftantly  frozen  every  winter.  The  inhabitants  find  by  coiiftant  ex- 
perience, that  at  tint  feifon  of  the  year  they  can  tranfport  their  heavieft 
CfFefls,  and  the  grcaiefl  weights,  with  fafety,  certainty  and  convenience. 
The  mean  heat  of  our  winters  in  fuch  places,  is  from  15  to  20  degrees.  la 
fuch  a  cold,  the  rivers  andftreains  will  be  lo  conftantly  and  ilcadily  frozen, 
th<»:  the  inhabitants  find  a  certain  and  a  fafe  piifage  every  winter,  over  the 
livers  and  lakes.  This  fecms  to  have  been  very  much  the  ftafc  of  the  an- 
«icnt  German  winter.  From  the  obfervations  which  were  made  at  Vienna, 
latitude  18° — la'  north,  in  the  years  1779  and  1780,  it  appears  that  the 
mean  heat  there  in  the  mo  ith  of  January  was  27'',5  ;  in  February  it  was 
33",23.  At  Ratifbin,  latitude  48" — 56'  north,  in  the  years  1781  &  178a, 
the  mean  heat  in  the  month  of  January  was  found  to  be  30**, 52  ;  that  of 
February  was  30**,76.  At  Manheim,  latitude  49" — 27'  north,  in  thcyears 
1781  and  1782,  the  mean  heat  in  the  mo.ith  of  January  was35°,o8;  in, 
February  it  was  SS^'.S.f  The  mean  of  thcfe,  31 ''iS  in  January,  and  33',i6 
in  February,  will  accurately  exprefs  the  prefent  temperature  of  the  German 
winter  on  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine.     The  time  when  the  batbariaos  bs* 

*  Phil.  Trans.  Vol.  LVlII.for  1769,  p.  58,  &c. 

+  Gibbon's  Roman  Hiftory,  Vol.  I,  p.  346. 

I  Ephem.  Soc.  Meteor.  Pdlat.  lam,  I,  II,  III, See, 

VOL.     I.  L    3  ' 


I 


'.]^ 


% 


!  '    ' 


i 


■1   i 


1    i 

,l| 

j   . 

> 

\     : 

■^ 

t- 

) 

i 
■ 

'li 


il 


i 


I 


h!f 


478 


APPENDIX. 


gan  their  inroJif^s  into  the  Roman  province*  was  aV»out  the  yeir  9tt«  Ac< 
coifiiiig  to  this  Cnmpufaticm,  tlic  change  ol  c'imaif  in  Germany  has  beea 
between  J.I  aiiif  >6  rieL;>(M"s,  in   15  and  a  h-iif  centuries. 

Tt'e  o'hcr  :iirtanccmeit'ion'd  by  the  ('illonan,  jh'I  which  fervcs  tomark 
the  climate  in  (jernnanv  in  hf-  unic  nf  Cac'a',  w.is  th"  npoearance  of  rlig 
fcip'icfr  The  wa-"  i  U  countries  in  whu-h  he  now  ri  ft 'I's,  are  SwcOcti, 
RiifTia  &  L^piind.  F  on  theohftrvations  made  ar  vbo  latitude  60" — 27' 
liorih  from  .'he  yra'  1  750  to  1  761.  the  jnean  heat  in  thp  month  of  January, 
was  totjod  to  be  up  (,8  ;  tha  ot  Febrtinty,  \^a,«.  2'.'^  38  \t  Ptieifbirg, 
lati'ude  ^i)°  -  ,^6' noith.  from  the vea-  176;  to  1777  •  "e 'nean  heat  in  J<)n> 
uary,  was  10°  ;  in  February  (hf  mean  i\cat  wa»  i6*,ij6  The  mean  of 
ihefe,  I4®  8<n  J  niarv.  and  18°. 9  in  Ffibtuary.  is  :Me  tcmpetatuie  of  the 
winiei  in  thai  pan  of  the  globe*  I  he(e  arc  tht- warmcft  climates  m  which 
tl»e  reindeer  does  now  fubiiH.  Ii  may  ihctefore  with  much  probability  be 
inferred,  ibutliis  wjs  the  temprraiure  of  the  German  winter  in  thp  day» 
of  Caef^ar,  i3  and  a  half  cenimiis  ago.  Hence  the  alcaiion  of  climate  in 
Getmany  duiing  that  fpaceoftime,  has  been  about  16  fiearees.  It  (etrnj 
to  be  a  c  nfirmation  of  the  truth  atid  propriety  of  iheic  diflFcrent  method* 
of  computation,  that  thev  bo'h  afT)ri)  much  the  fame  refult. 

From  the fc accounts  it  appears  with  a  dfcilive  evidence,  that  .he  cl'mne, 
in  th-?  couife  of  fevcral  centuries,  has  r.  ma'kably  changed  at  Paicltine.  in 
Italy,  around  the  Euxinc  tea,  at  the  Alp<i,  and  throughout  all  Gerrranv, 
Through  all  this  vaft, extent  of  countiy,  the  climate  is  now  become  16  riy 
degrees  warmer  than  it  was  1 8  centuries  ago.  1  he  continent  ot  -im  tica 
in  fimilar  latitudes,  i»  (fill  fubjeft  to  a  great  degree  of  cold.  If  the  meteo- 
rological obfervations  which  have  been  made  at  Williamfburg,  Cambridge, 
Quebec  and  Hudfou's  Bay  in  America,  be  compared  wi  h  thole  which 
have  been  made  at  Algiers,  Rome,  Poi3icrsand  Solvfkamflti,  p'aces  whole 
latitudes  are  nearly  equil ;+  it  will  be  found  that  the  t.nropean  comment 
is  now  ta  degrees  warmer  than  that  ot  "imerica.  Marty  inquiries  and 
fpeculations  have  been  propofed  to  account  for  this  extreme  eld  of  Amcrj. 
ca.  From  the  accounts  which  have  bren  mentioned,  it  appears  that  17  or 
18  centuries  ago,  the  continent  of  Europe,  indcad  of  being  12  degrees 
warmer,  was  fubjeft  to  a  cold  4  or  5  degices  greater,  than  that  which  now 
takes  place  on  the  continent  of  Ameiica.  The  p'opcr  inquiries  therefore 
item  to  be,  whence  is  it  that  the  European  continmi  is  become  fo  mich 
more  mild  and  temperate  than  that  of  America  ? — Wheherthe  latter  will 
not  in  a  courfeoftime  become  equally  warm  and  temperate  as  the  tor- 
mer  ? — Whether  the  climates  of  bo'h  w}[\  not  gradually  beome  more 
equal,  uniform  and  moderate,  than  thev  now  are  ? — i\nc\.  whether  cuki- 
vattow  is  fuffiv  ient  to  account  for  thefe  changes  ?  For  whatever  the  laufe 
may  he,  the  faft  feems  to  be  certain,  the  heat  of  all  that  part  of  the  ea'th.of 
which  we  have  any  ancient  accouitts,  has  beci  incrcafing  from  the  earlieft 
•ge». 


*  Kirwan's  edimatei 


■*■  rtlgiers,  latitude  36*  -.19' 
Home  41"— 54' 

Priftiers  46'^— 39' 


'solyflomfki 


59^ 


M.  n. 

72« 

5C)"..?- 

63">» 

3a 


o  , 


1 


r 


APPENDIX. 


47f 


■r  9flt.    Kct 

aii<  has  bees 

rrvcs  to  mark 
irancf  of    the 

arf  Sweden, 
jde6o<»— 27» 
h  ot  January, 
\t  Ptififburg, 
1  brat  in  ]m. 
rhe  mran  of 
piatuic  of  (he 
idtrsin  which 
>rnbabilitv  be 
r  in    thp  day* 

ot  climate  in 
'es.  It  letmj 
rent  mfthod* 

t  I  he  cl'tTnte, 

1  PalcUinr.  in 

all  Germanv, 

:omf  i6    r  \f 

t  ot     \in  tica 

If  the  mrtfo- 

r,  Cambridge, 

thole  which 

p'aces  whole 

ran  continent 

inquiries  and 

'Id  of  Ameri. 

irs  that  17  or 

12   degrees 

which  now 

es  therefore 

me  fo  nircli 

e  latter  will 

te  as  the  lor- 

lecjme  more 

hether  cuki. 

y^er  the  laufe 

the  caiih.of 

the  earheft 


No.     III. 

^«  aectunt  of  Frog*  dug  out  of  the  earth  at  Burlington. 
Chap    VI.  p.   154. 

THE  a<  counts  which  nd;ij>al  inllorv  has  rii(ii*!ed  of  the  difrovcry  of 
toads  aiid  f'Ogs,  in  fi  na  lonsm  >^/hKh  it  ha'^  been  fuppo'cd  it  was  impofTj' 
blc  they  Ih'iuid  exilt    havr  been  ot  a  fidgular  and  extraoidmary  kind. 

A  vcrv  umaikabe  inft.mcr  of  this  nature,  has  lately  la  li  n  under  my 
own  oblt-rvauon.  On  C)£fnher  2th,  1  827,  Mo!cs  Cailin,  E'.q  ot  Burhng. 
ion.  was  digging  a  a/pII  a  tew  tods  dillant  troni  his  dwtlhn^;  houTc.  His 
houfe  was  about  twenty  lods  fouih  ot  'he  College,  on  a  haid  gravelly  |.>il 
and  on  the  highell  ^and  in  me  iiei^hborhnod.  Winn  the  woiktmn  had 
dug  aboil  fi^e  Icct  below  (he  lurtacc  ot  ilic  grom  d,  they  found  fix  fiogj, 
which  did  not  appear  10  be  in  a  toipid  or  weak  llaie  ;  f>ut  as  loon  as  they 
W(  re  thrown  out  ot  the  earth,  di'coveicd  the  full  powers  of  activity  and 
health  Two  of  thele  frogs  lay  togetticr  in  ihc  earth,  tue  others  weicleua- 
rate  ;  moft,  or  all  of  them  were  covered,  or  lay  under  Imall  Hones.  Oc- 
tober the  13th,  two  more  of  the  tamf  kind  were  found  ;  lepara'r,  but  un- 
der Imall  (tones  as  before  October  the  14th,  in  the  morning  five-  more 
were  lound  at  the  depth  of  about  eleven  feet  from  'he  furface  t>t  the  ground, 
T-A'O  of  ihefe  lay  togeiher,  ihe  others  were  fcpaiate  ;  none  of  them  were 
covered  with  anv  Hones,  but  fuTounded  with  hard  giaveily  eanh  Alex- 
andcr  CjiIio,  K'q  a  man  ol  the  moll  refpettable  charafter,  alTurcd  nie, 
thithelaAr  the  workmen  dig  up  thrre  of  thefe  fro;;s  :  and  that  another 
man  was  prelmt,  when  the  workmen  dug  up  the  fourth, 

At  mv  ffqneft  Mr  Cailin  prrfervtd  two  of  them  in  a  tUTibler.  Eight 
houis  after  they  were  dU|4  np.  I  viewed  them  with  all  \.\\<t  atleniion  and 
care  in  my  power.  Tfr  y  were  oi  the  fame  kind  as  the  frogs  which  ar» 
generally  iecn  in  this  vicinity.  One  of  them  appeared  to  have  attained  its 
lu!l  growth  ;  the  other  was  not  of  the  full  fi/e.  Their  bodies  did  not  ap- 
pear to  be  Ihrivellcd,  or  in  anv  degree  einaciated,  but  full,  plump  and  heal* 
thv.  I  heir  eyes  «cre  lucid  ano  brijuant,  vithout  any  appearance  of  de- 
feft.  Theii  limbs  fe  med  to  be  in  perftft  proportion  and  order  ;  and 
their  claws  Innrf.  (lender  and  delicate.  Relpitaiioii  appeared  to  be  ftrong 
and  uneml)ari.!iri  d  ;  and  caniid  on  with  as  much  eale  and  regularity  as  in 
any  oiiitr  frogs.  On  moving  the  cover  from  the  tumbler  in  which  they 
were  .coiihned,  bulh  of  them  jnmped  outtiom  the  glai^t.and  hopped  round 
th.'  room  ;  and  we  tiad  to  chaie  ttieni  leveral  times  round  the  room  before 
wr:  could  caich  them.  Thry  Icemed  pcrtertly  well  to  underftand  the  beft 
way  ol  evading  our  purfuit;  did  not  aittrnpt  to  leap  a;;ainft  the  wall  01 
fninituie,  but  kepi  in  that  part  ot  the  room  where  they  were  apparently 
\>v{\  (ecured  bv  the  wall,  chairs  and  tables.  Nor  have  1  ever  feen  more  ac- 
tivity, fprightlincfs,  o'  ftronger  powers  of  life  and  attion  in  any  frogs,  than 
what  appeared  in  ihefe  two,  eight  i.r'urs  after  they  were  dug  out  of  the 
earth  ;  and  had  been  prcfeived  in  a  tumb'-r,  witiiout  any  kind  ol  food  or 
nourifhment.  To  render  the  evidence  of  thctt.  '.ids  as  c  impleat  as  the  na» 
ture  of  the  fuhj;  ft  would  admit,  we  prc'ervctl  boi.^  tlic  frogs  in  Ipirits  and 
exhibited  them  to  the  view  of  the  ftudcms  in  the  univerfity  ;  and  they  are 
now  in  po(r>  ffion  of  the  prcfident  ot  ihat  feminary.  The  workmen  funk 
the  well  10  the  depth  of  about  eighteen  teet,  bai  did  not  find  any  moie  o£ 
fehef"  animals. 

Oftoberfhe  86th,  the  workmen  were  digging  another  well  for  Mr.  CiU 
lifli  »bGui  eighty  rods  ngrth  eaft  gf  the  College.    The  toil  was  ot  a  Icof;^ 


1 


""} 

r 

"^ 

I 

ii 

1^ 

■1! 

Iti 


i'i 


T    i^ 


i  J 


i 


480 


APPENDIX. 


gravelly  kind.  At  the  depth  of  eleven  feet,  they  du|;  up  a  Frog  t  n  tlit« 
well.  Upon  examination,  I  found  it  was  of  the  fame  kind,  form,  fize  and 
appearance,  at  the  frogs  in  the  other  well  ;  and  had  the  fame  phenomena 
of  health,  vigor  and  activity.  To  afcertain  the  internal  ftate  and  contents 
of  this  frog,  we  opened  it.  On  didtftion,  it  was  found  to  contain  afmali 
quantity  of  blood.  The  heart,  lungs  and  other  entrails,  were  in  a  natural 
and  perfcfl  Hate.  The  inteftines  contained  a  white  mucus,  of  a  middling 
connitence.  The  internal  parts  neither  appeared  to  be  loaded  with  fat,  or 
emaciated  by  leanncfs  ;  but  to  be  in  a  (late  that  denoted  regular  but  mode* 
rate  nourifhment.  And  nothing  like  putridity,  deficiency,  or  decay,  ap> 
peared  in  any  part  of  the  animal.  Uncomfortable  weather  coming  on,  the 
workmen  did  not  fink  this  well  to  any  greater  depth. 

It  is  fcarccly  to  be  expefled  that  more  compleat  evidence  ever  (hould 
be  found  attending  any  indances  of  this  nature  :  And  whether  we  can  ac- 
count  for  them,  or  not,  their  reality  cannot,  I  think,  be  called  in  quellion. 

In  what  manner  (hall  we  go  about  to  explain  the  philofophy  ufthefe 
frogs  ;  or  to  account  lor  their  formation,  fituation,  and  life  ? 

Could  thefe  animals  have  been  produced  in  (uch  a  fiiuation  by  the  earth  7 
The  dotXnneoi  equivocal  generation  docs  not  feera  to  have  any  thing  in  theory, 
obfervation  or  experiment  to  fupport  it.  No  one  thing  in  nature  appears 
to  be  the  refult  oiF  chance,  or  accident.  Every  plant,  every  tree,  and  every 
body  in  the  whole  fyftem  of  nature,  is  evidently  the  refuit  of  defign,  con- 
trivance, and  adjudment ;  and  appears  to  be  preferved  and  regulated  by 
Aated  and  permanent  laws.  The  obje£l  or  the  body  is  not  to  be  named, 
in  thehcaven&,  or  in  the  earth,  which  appears  to  be  produced,  to  be  gO" 
verned,  or  to  be  moved  by  chance  or  accident  ;  'hat  is  by  no  caufe,  or  law 
at  all.  Leaft  of  all  is  this  to  be  expc£tcd  in  animals,  every  one  of  which 
has  an  appropriaceforra,  conllitutiotl,  inclinations,  and  manner  of  life,  mo- 
tion, and  propagation.  That  n?cn  (hould  be  produced  by  corruption,  of 
that  the  rocks  and  woods  (hould  engender  (lags  and  tygers,  would  be  an 
adcrtion  too  improbable  and  ludicrous  for  folly  to  n.ake,  or  for  infidelity 
lo  believe.  It  has  been  contended  that  infeflsare  brid  by  corruption  and 
putre(a£lion.  Malpigi,  Swammcrdam,  Reai  ami  oihershave  confuted 
this  doflrine  ;  and  (liown  that  it  does  not  agree  with  obfervation.  The 
refult  of  their  inquiries  and  oblcivations  is,  that  moft  of  the  infefls  are 
derived  ex  ovo,  and  that  they  depofit  their  eggs  wherever  they  can  find  a 
fit  place  for  incubation ;  in  water,  fledi,  fruits  and  vegetables,  in  or  about 
the  bodies  of  animals,  in  the  feathers  of  birds,  hair  of  beads,  fcalesof  (i(hes, 
and  in  every  acceflible part  of  nature.  Nor  will  experiment  help  the  doc- 
trine of  equivocal  generation  in  any  degree.  From  the  corruption  of  a 
body  arifeth  not  aflivity  and  life,  but  a  diiTolution  of  its  parts.  You 
cannot  reduce  a  piece  of  flelh  to  putrefa£tion,  and  out  of  that  putrid  mafi 
make  an  animal  body,  which  (hall  have  a  head,  a  heart,  entrails,  veins, 
and  blood  vefTels ;  all  of  which  are  n^ceilary  to  conftitute  a  living  creature.. 
Nor  can  you  take  a  piece  of  rotten  cheefe,  or  meat  and  make  out  of  it  a 
handful  of  miles  or  worms,  any  more  than  you  can  form  it  into  lions  or 
whales.  A  dodrine  then  which  has  nothing  in  thcoiy,  obfervation  or  ex- 
periment, to  (upport  it,  cannot  be  advanced  with  any  appearance  of  proba- 
bility to  account  for  the  formation  ol  thefe  frogs. 

Could  they  have  been  preferved  or  cxiUcd  in  the  earth  for  a  long  num- 
ber of  years  ?  This  feems  to  have  been  the  cafe,  and  does  not  appear  to  be 
contrary  to  the  laws  and  phenomena  of  nature.  Every  animal  that  we  are 
acquainted  with,  has  apparently  two  modes  of  exiiiing,  (leepingand  waking. 
"When  awake,  all  the  fprings  oiF  nature  feem  to  be  aflive  and  in  motion  j 
when  afkep,  the  orgatu  of  the  body  fcctn  lo  be  fufpeaded  ai  to  theiv 


I*  !' 


APPENDIX. 


A81 


«fiivity  and  exertions,  but  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and  the  a6live  pow« 
ers  oF  life  Hill  remain.  And  trom  the  one  to  the  other  of  thcfe  Oaica  all 
the  animals  ot  which  we  have  any  inlormation,  have  a  regular  and  natural 
tranfition.  When  wearied  or  leduccd  by  aftivity  and  exertion,  the  ani- 
mal frame  relaxes  and  yields,  and  wc  find  in  reft  and  fleep  both  relief  and 
refrcfhment.  When  the  body  has  been  relieved  and  refrcfhed  by  reft,  the 
powers  of  nature  feem  to  be  recruited,  the  ptilfc  gradually  quickens,  the 
organs  ol  fenfe  rcfumc  tiieir  funilions,  and  the  animal  awakes  from  flccp. 
In  moft  animals,  both  ihcfe  Uaies  arc  ncceffaryto  his  health  and  life  ;  they 
regularly  fucceed  each  other,  and  the  one  is  as  natural  and  necedary  as  the 
other. 

In  fome  animals  this  alternate  and  rep,vilar  fucceflTion  of  deeping  and  wak« 
ing  is  either  not  kept  up,  or  it  is  fubjcft  to  very  long  periods  of  lime. 
Bears,  Serpents,  Toads,  Frogs,  Flies,  and  various  other  animals  are  known 
to  live  through  the  winter  months  in  a  torf'id  ftate.  At  the  approach  o£ 
cold  weather  ihey  retire  into  the  earth,  to  the  bottom  of  waters,  or  to  fome 
place  of  fecurity,  and  do  not  appear  again  till  the  warmth  of  fpring  has 
fottencd  and  vivified  the  earth.  Thev  then  leave  their  places  of  conceal- 
ment, and  come  forth  into  the  atmolphcre  ;  apparently  weak  at  fiift,  butt 
not  emaciated,  lean,  or  deprived  of  their  flefti. 

During  this  period''of  their  torpid  ftate,  the  appearances  arc,  that  thc]^ 
exift  without  any  regular  fupplies  of  food  ;  but  not  without  fomething 
that  operates  to  their  prcfervatinn,  fupport,  nourifhment,  or  continuation. 
As  nature  is  not  wearing  away  by  continued  a6fivityi  or  by  conftant  per* 
fpiration,  it  fhould  lecm  that  it  does  not  require  conftant  fupplies  of  food, 
to  recruit,  what  in  the  torpid  ftate  is  not  much  fpent  or  wafted,  .^n  ant- 
^lal  then  may  exift  in  the  torpid  ftate  without  regular  fupplies  of  food  or 
vifluals,  to  rcftorc  or  recruit  that  wafte  of  nature,  which  always  takes  place 
in  the  adUve,  but  docs  not  feem  to  have  much  effcfl  in  the  torpid  ftatcof 
exiftence.  But  ftill,  fomcthi.ig  is  necclTary  to  prcferve  the  animal  in  tJnt 
ftate  in  which  it  went  to  Oeep,  and  fell  into  the  infenfiblc  lethargy,  In 
fome  animals,  watct  anlwers  this  purpofe  ;  in  others,  earth  contributes  to 
the  efFcft  ;  in  others,  a  rock,  or  a  tree,  or  any  thing  that  tends  to  prtfcrve 
and  fupport  the  powers  of  nature,  and  prevent  their  being  exhauftcd.  And 
to  every  fpecies  of  animals,  the  author  of  nature  feems  to  have  given  x  f«.- 
culty,  todifcern  and  felcft  what  is  belt  fuited  to  their  purpofe. 

How  long  may  an  animal  exift  in  a  torpid,  or  in  an  infennble  ftate  f 
Many  of  them,  wc  Hnow  from  obfervation,  do  annually  live  one  halt  the 
year  in  this  ftate.  We  have  well  attefted  accounts  of  a  man  living  miny 
days  in  a  ftate  of  Deep  or  torpor  ;*  of  flies,  immerfed  and  corked  up  ir  a 
bottle  of  Madeira  wine  in  Virginia,  and  many  monthsafter  coming  tolifo, 
when  the  wine  was  opened  in  London  ;+  of  a  toad  that  lived  eighty  or 
a  hundred  years  in  the  heart  of  an  old  oak  at  Nantz  ^  And  if  all  the 
powers  of  animal  life  may  be  fufpcnded  in  fuch  animal*  for  fo  long  a  peri- 
od, what  fliould  prevent  their  continuance  in  fuch  a  ftate  for  a  much  longer 
period  of  time  ;  for  hundreds,  or  thoufands,  or  any  given  number  of 
years  ?  Or  who  would  pretend  to  afCgn  any  data,  to  determine  the  maxi* 
n>t<m,  to  which  fuch  a  ftate  might  extend?  If  all  circumftances  (houl<^ 
remain  the  f^me,  as  they  were  when  the  animal  firft  went  into  the  torpid 
fiate,  it  does  not  appear  that  the  powers  of  life  muli  ncceiTarily  wafle  awsi^ 

*  Philofophical  Tranfa£lioni. 

f  Franklin. 

t  Memein  of  the  Academy  of  Sciencoi  for  1719, 


'/ 


. ) 


I 


J 


!,l 

V- 


s 


I   ' 


I  r 


il     I 


H 


:h.' 


!  ; 

I   III 


il 


ii  I 


H 


l^ 


''I  ^' 


482 


APPENDIX, 


for  want  of  food,  or  ot  fomething  to  fupport  and  prefrrve  them.     And  w 

tlicv  were  pielcrved.  whenrvn  the  air.mal  is  by  any  means  binuglit  into  a 

fituatiori  in  which    the  I'-'thargy  or  torpor  iJiOiilfi    na'U'ally    f;o   olf.    whs? 

(hould  prevent  its  tian(ition  to  ihe  nimral   (ia  e  r)f  anim.il    Iilc  dnd  vi^or  r 

In  what  mJMncr  was  it  poflibic  that  the  fro^s  fhnuld  cvei  have  affuincti, 

^  or  been  placen   in  (uch  a  (ituaiion  ?    I'lie  i;iouii,l  louod  Mr   Catkin  »  houlc 

,     '}  in  which  the  v\  (11  was  dug.  was  ot  a    haid.  compai:!,   gravelly    foil,  mtcr. 

mixed  wiih    fome  fmall  Hones  ;    but   wi  iiout   a>iy   app.^ar.ince  «if   poies, 

vacuities,  or  currents  of  water  ;   and   i<    the  hijjnell  land  in   the   vicinty. 

jj        '      The  fpot  of  land  in  which  the  (ei  onti  well  w.is  <ln^,  w'»»  of  a  loofe  g  avci- 

»     1  Jy  foil,  wi'.h  (omcimcrmixturcs  ol  clav  ;   and  on  a  fm  •U  emiiTncc  or  I  ill, 

'  l'  There  was  not  anv  thing  in  the  fiiuation   oi  appeaiance  of  either,   fiotu 

ji      '  which  any  probability  or  conj'-ftuic  could  ari't ,  thai  either  of  thefc  placci 

>*       '  were  ever   covered   or  overflowed   by  the    Wiiters  of  Lake   Chamulain.  or 

*■  '        ■  fiom  any  of  the adjiccnt  rivers,      lioth  iheie  places  however,  hjd  till  wiih. 

in  fix  or  feven  years,  been  cove  re  I  with   heavy  timber  ;  and   which  pml.a.. 

biy  had  never  been  touched  by    ihe  hand  of  man,  till  it  va  cut  down  a 

few  years  ago,  to    make  way  for    trie   feitlcmciit  of   buriinpioii.      In  ihci 

original  ail'  natural   flate,   our  woods  are   damo,  moill.   and    miry.      The 

trees  a'e  alicrnately  gro^vtr.g  up,  d(ca\ii.g,  roiting,  falling  down  ;  and  nev 

.   ones  anfiig  uo,  from  ;lie  decays,  and  i.i  Mie  places  of  o' hers.       In  this  pro- 

cefs  pithii-.^  is  m.orc  common,  than  lor  hole.i  and  va'  uiticj  ir)  appear  in  tlii: 

fr.Kcs  3iid  in  the  (oos,  of  the  old  and  di  caving  tteis  ;  thele  vacuities  and 

,  tiduics  are  of  differeii'   fiJuies  ar.d   dimcnfions,   and    every    where  to  b« 

found  in  tbeunculiiva  ed  lands,       \ivi  <uch  a  kind  of  proce/s  has  piobably 

teen  g'>ing  on  in  the  woods  of  Venn  out,  Irom  iheir  Sri)  pioduftion  uii  i' 

fj.ow.      In  the    futci  fTive  changes   that  nature  in  this  rcfp  6^  may  h3>'e  pul- 

ftd  throu>;h,  there  does  not  feem  lo  be  any  thing  unnatural  or  improbable, 

jnihere  having  been  times,  places,  and  ciicumifanrcs,  in  whirh  fioj^^mi^hi 

hav."  b'-fii   conveyed    in  their  cg;;s,  or  alter  ihcir  full   ;^ro-Aih  have  found  a 

palfj!''  levp.al  feci   below    the  lurfa  c  of  the  earth  ;    and  thus    marl?  thrir 

wiv  I  iio  frna^i'ins,  in  which    the  powcu   of  life    might  be  prclervcd,  but 

from  ''Inch  "hev  cr-tild  no   fii.d  anv  palFagc  or  w ■<-■  .  to  efcape. 

Thi>crnj  ftural  method  of  rta'oning,  may  I  believe  lervc  to  account  foi 
the  ph.  (ical  pofTibiUy  of  fafts,  which  we  are  certain  have  taken  place;  but 
il  is  fir  from  being  certain  that  they  do  in  fii6l  cxplair.  the  aftua!  pror.cl: 
of  t'atJre,  in  the  prcletvaiion  of  (uch  animals,  .''ind  I  am  in  miicl-.  doubt 
whether  ihe  obfcrvations  rn  the  tirpid  fta'c  of  animals,  v\  i  1  apply  to  the 
cafe  rf  the  frogs.  It  did  no;  appear  to  me  that  any  o!  thefc  frogs  were  in 
a  torpid  (fate,  when  they  were  dug  up  ;  the  phenomena  rather  denoted 
that'bey  were  in  the  fall  powers  ot  animation,  attivity,  ar.r^.  heafh  ;  and 
thai  nothing  was  wanting  for  their  ex^  rtion  but  frcdom  from  heir  con- 
lined  and  unnatural  ft  uation.  Upon  dilTedling  one  ot  them,  no  one  of  the 
tnoearaneet  denoted  ihar  it  had  lived  with.ou'  l:imc  ki:id  of  food  or  nour- 
i[hm°nt  ;  but  that  it  ht-d  in  tad  derived  foin."thing  from  the  earth,  which 
formed  ihc  regular  mjcus  that  was  fprcad  through  the  in'tlfines  ;  ar.ri  m 
t'-.ij  wav.  received  regulr.r  funoiies  of  (o.d  and  luppott.  In  Inch  a  (i na- 
tion, it  is  probable,  it  mii^ht  have  lived  as  long  -rfs  the  earth  continued  to 
afford  the  moillurc  and  aliment  ncc.  iFary  for  its  (upport  ;  bur  when  H'eie 
fliould  have  been  carried  o^  by  evaporation,  diooght,  Vr  being  expoled  to 
<he  (un  and  winds,  the  life  of  the  animal  conid  not  iiave  been  preltrved. 

IiilleKd  then  of  pretending  to  give  a  full  and  adeqii.iie  explanai  ion  o. 
thefe  myHcries  of  nature,  I  have  only  fVited  what  occurred  to  my  mind 
!;t> 'rt  the  fiibjeft.  Wtien  there  fhall  be  move  in'"..r;r.  .ion  deriv  d  Iroin 
i^i'i.s  and  obiervation,  it  is  not  improbable  that  <.',.;'  iinpiovers  of  natural 
'  .'V^y  ^n\[\  be  able  to  give  a  more  latisfaftory  account  ai'd  exvlanation  »■ 
ilftlc  extraordinary,  but  well  attcUcJ  phcnoo>?aa. 


APPENDIX, 


496 


em.     Anci  it 

niugl)t  into  a 
lo   oH,   what 
c  diicl  vii^or  } 
lavt  affiiincn, 
Jdt'iii  »  hnulc 
y    foil,  inter- 
»ce  of    poieSt 
the   viciiity. 
Idofe  g  avc!  • 
iTiicc  or  I  ill, 
cither,   tioru 
)f  chcfe  placei 
^hatnolain.  or 
hjd  lill  wiih- 
which  prola- 
i  cut  ?;own  a 
on.      In  ihfi 
1    miry.     The 
wn  ;  and  nev 
If.  this  pro- 
t  appear  iti  thv. 
:  vacuities  and 
where  to  b« 
s  has  piobably 
oduftion  uii  i' 
may  h3>'e  pal- 
ir  inrt probable, 
rh  Uvi-^'.  mi^hi 
h  have  found  a 
IS    made  thrir 
prclerved,  but 
le. 

to  accniint  fo» 
en  place ;  but 
ftua!  pror.cl: 
miici".  doubt 
apply  lo  the 
rogs  were  in 
her  denoted 
heal;h  ;  nnd 
m    heir  ci^n- 
no  one  of  the 
food  or  nour- 
earth,  w'lich 
ities  ;   aifi  ti\ 
fiich  a    fi  iia- 
cimi iiiiK'd  to 
nt  when  H'eie 
nn  ex  poled  to 

prelervL-d. 

xp!aiia;ion   oi 

lo   mv  mind 

deriv  d  Iroin 

rs   of  natural 

exv'anal'i'^"  *■ 


No.   IV. 

Ifhervatlom  en  the  fafcinattng  po'wer  of  Serpenft.     C  h  a  p  t  e  P. 

VI,  p.   i56. 

T-'HEN  thr  lemark*  refpefling  the  fjfcinating  power  oF  Serpents, 
jnferted  p'gei^^  6  was  wtiiten,  1  had  not  met  wiihany  American (<b'erva« 
tiois  whicii  app-ar-d  lo  nic  to  be  fufficicntlv  accurate  to  afcer'aiintvr  taft, 
or  to  jullify  an;  drcifion  on  the  fubj  tl.  I  have  ftnce  been  favond  with 
obftrva  i  'nj  which  app  ar  to  be  mitkcd  wi.h  ptccifrin  and  accuracy,  and 
mav  -"iford  further    intotma'ion  in  this  myilciiogs  part  of  natuial  hiffory. 

This  (ubj  ft  was  mentioned  bv  Dr  Con.  n  Mathrr,  fo  early  as  the  year 
1712  III  t  comfpunicaiion  which  he  made  to  the  Roval  Soiiriy  ot  Lon« 
don,  he  treats  of  ihe  Rattle  Snake  of  America,  aiidrela'esa  (fory,  as  he 
fays,  c  nflantlvaffiimef  bv  the  Imiiani,  viz.  "  that  ihed  Snak<»  frequently 
lie  roiled  at  the  bottom  of  a  lar(;c  tree,  with  iheir  ev<s  fixe  •  on  fomc  'q  lir- 
rcl  above  in  the  tree,  which  though  ficmingbv  his  cries,  and  leaping  dbout 
to  be  in  a  fright,  yet  at  lall  runs  down  the  tree  into  the  ja^vi  of  this  de« 
Toiirer."* 

The  Hon.  Paul  Dudley  of  Roxburv,  M.  (Tichufetts,  Fellow  of  the  R  >yal 
Society  of  London,  and  Ciiiel  Julfice  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  VI  .ifachu- 
fetts,  about  the  year  1721,  wrote  thus  to  the  Royal  Society  +  t'la  he 
"  would  not  pretend  to  anfwer  for  the  truth  of  every  (lory  he  had  neard 
of  their  charming  or  powei  of  fafcination  ;  \ct  he  was  abundantly  faiisfied 
from  feveral  witnilLs,  both  Englilh  and  Indian,  that  a  raulr  fnake  will 
charm  both  fquirrels  and  birds  from  a  tree  into  his  mouth.  Mi.  Dudley 
was  told  by  one  of  undoubted  probity,  that  as  he  was  in  the  woods  heob- 
fervcd  a  iquirrel  in  great  diflrefs  dancing  from  one  bough  to  ano'her.  and 
making  a  lamentable  noife,  till  at  lad  he  came  down  the  tree  and  lan  be- 
hind a  log  ;  the  prrfon  going  to  fee  what  was  become  of  him,  Ipied  a  large 
fnake  that  h'd  fwallowcil  him. 

•'  Mr.  Dudley  is  the  rather  confirmed  in  this  relation,  becaufe  hi.i  own 
brother,  being  in  the  woods,  opened  one  of  thefe  fnakcs  and  found  two 
(Iriped  fquirrcls  in  his  belly,  and  both  «f  them  head  foremofl.  When 
they  charm,  they  make  a  hoaife  noife  with  their  mouths,  and  a  fofi  rattle 
with  their  tails,  having  the  eve  at  the  fame  time  fixed  on  the  prey." 

Beverly,  in  his  Hidory  of  Virginia,  edit.  2.  p.  260.  Lond.  1722,  8vo. 
©bfcrves,  that  "  all  iortsof  fnakes  will  charm  both  birds  and  fqui-rels.and 
the  Indians  pretend  to  charm  them.  Several  perfons  have  feen  Iquirrels 
run  down  a  tree  diredlv  into  a  fnakc's  mouth  :  They  have  likcwile  (een 
birds  fluitetii'g  up  and  down,  and  chattering  at  thefe  fnakcs,  till  at  laU  they 
have  dropped  dowr.  before  them.'* 

In  the  year  1748,  M.  Kaim,  profelFor  of  occonomy  in  the  Univerfity  of 
Abo,  in  Sweden,  wa;.  fent  into  North  America,  for  the  particular  purpofe 
of  making  obTervations  on  the  Natural  Hiftory  of  the  c^Mintry.  During  his 
ftay  in  New  York,  he  paid  particular  attention  to  this  fubj  ft,  of  which  he 
gives  the  following  account  : — "  Mnft  of  the  people  in  this  country  dfcri- 
bcd  to  this  fnake  a  power  of  falcinating  birds  and  fq'iirrels,  as  I  have  dc- 
fcribed  in  leveral  parts  of  my  j;nirnal.  When  the  fnake  lies  under  a  tree, 
and  has  fixed  his  eyes  on  a  bird  or  Iquirrel  above,  it  obliges  thera  to  come 
down  and  to  go  direftly  into  its  mouth.  I  cannot  account  for  this,  for  I 
never  faw  it  done.  However,  I  have  a  lift  of  more  than  twenty  perforis, 
among  which  are  fome  of  the  moft  creditable  people,  who  have  till  unani- 
sioufly,  though  living  far  diifant  fiotn  each  other,  afferted  the  fame.  Uing* 


Fbil.  Trans.  Ni>.  339. 


+  Phil.  Trans.  No.  376.  p.  49  5* 


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484 


APPENDIX. 


They  afTured  me,  upon  their  honor,  that  they  have  feen,  tt  feveral  time«, 
thefc  black  fnakcs  fafcinattng  fquirrels  anal  birds  which  fat  on  the  tnps  o{ 
trees,  the  fnake  lying  at  ihe  foot  of  the  tree,  with  its  eyes  fixed  upon  tha 
)>ird  or  fquirrei  which  fits  above  it,  and  utters  a  doleful  note  ;  fiom  which 
it  is  eafy  to  conclude  with  certainty  that  it  is  about  to  bcfafcinated,  though 
you  cannot  fee  it.  The  bird,  or  fquirrei,  runs  up  and  down  along  the  tree 
continuing  its  plaintive  fong,  and  always  comes  nearer  the  fnake,  whofe 
eyes  are  unalterably  fixed  upon  it.  It  (hould  feem  as  if  thefe  poor  crea< 
turei  endeavored  to  efcape  the  fnake,  by  hopping  or  running  up  thr  trcr| 
but  there  appears  to  be  a  power  which  with-holds  them  ;  they  are  forced 
downwards,  and  each  time  that  they  turn  back  they  approach  the  nearer 
their  enemy,  till  they  arc  at  laft  forced  to  leap  into  its  mouth,  which  ftands 
wide  open  for  that  putpofe.  Numbers  of  fquirrels  and  birds  are  continu- 
ally running  and  hopping  fearlefi  in  the  woods  on  the  ground,  where  the 
fnakes  lie  in  wait  tor  them,  and  can  eafily  give  thefe  poor  creatures  a  mor« 
tal  bite.  Therefore  it  feems  that  this  fafcination  might  be  thus  inierpre* 
ted,  that  the  creature  has  firit  got  a  mortal  wound  from  the  fnake,  which 
is  fure  of  its  bite,  and  lies  quiet,  being  afTured  that  the  wounded  creature 
has  been  poifoned  with  the  bite,  or  at  leaft  feels  pain  from  the  violence  of 
the  bite,  and  that  it  will  at  lail  be  obliged  to  come  down  into  its  mouth. 
The  plaintive  note  is  perhaps  occafioned  by  the  acutenefs  of  the  pain  which 
the  wound  gives  the  creature  :  But  to  this  it  may  be  objefied,  that  the  bite 
of  the  black  fnake  is  not  poifonous.  It  may  further  be  obje£led,  that  if 
the  fnake  could  come  near  enough  to  a  bird  or  fquirrei  to  give  it  a  mortal 
bite,  it  might  as  eafily  keep  hold  of  it,  or,  as  it  fomciimes  does  witk 
poultry,  twift  round  and  flrangle  or  Aifle  it.  But  the  chief  objection  which 
lies  againll  this  interpretation  is  the  following  account,  which  I  received 
from  the  moft  creditable  people,  who  have  affured  me  of  it.  The  fquirrei 
being  upon  the  point  of  running  into  the  fnakc's  mouth,  the  fpeitatora 
have  not  been  able  to  let  it  come  to  that  pitch,  but  killed  the  fnake  ;  aiid 
as  foon  as  it  had  got  a  mortal  blow,  the  fquirrei  or  bird  dcftined  for  de- 
ftruflion  flew  away,  and  left  ofl"  their  mournful  note,  as  if  they  had  broke 
looie  from  a  net.  Some  fay,  that  if  they  only  touched  the  fnake,  fo  as  to 
^raw  off  its  attention  from  the  fquirrei,  it  went  oiF  quickly,  not  (lopping 
till  it  had  got  to  a  great  diftance.  Why  do  the  fquirrels  or  birds  go  away 
fo  fuddenly,  and  why  no  fooner  ?  If  they  had  been  poifoned  or  bitten  by 
the  fnake  before,  fo  as  not  to  be  able  to  get  from  the  tree,  and  to  be  forced 
to  approach  the  fnake  always  more  and  more,  they  could  not,  however, 
get  new  ftrength  by  the  fnake  being  killed  or  diverted  ;  therefore  it  feems 
thai  they  2n  only  inchunled,  whilft  the  fnake  has  its  eyes  fixed  on  theni. 
However,  this  looks  odd  and  unaccountable,  thobgh  many  of  the  worthieft 
and  moft  reputable  people  have  related  it,  and  though  it  is  founiverfally  bc» 
licvcd  here,  that  todoubt  it  would  betoexpofeone's  felfto  general  laughter." 

Thefe  obfcrvations  clearly  fhow  what  has  been  the  general  fentiments  of 
the  people  upon  this  fubjeft,  from  the  earliefl  fcttlement  of  the  country. 
The  opinion  formed  by  the  original  inhabitants  could  not  be  derived  from 
Looks,  fpeculations,  or  philofophical  theories  ;  but  muft  have  been  formed 
from  what  they  had  themfclves  obfcrvcd  and  feen.  Thofe  of  our  anceftors 
who  frequently  met  with  thefe  ferpcnts  in  the  woods,  found  the  Indian  ac- 
counts to  be  true,  and  embraced  the  fame  opinion,  and  it  feems  to  have 
been  admitted  by  both,  as  a  well  known  matter  of  faft. 

The  accounts  however  which  ib.ty  have  given  us  of  this  matter,  do  not 
amount  to  the  highcft  evidence  the  fubjrft  may  admit.  They  clearly  fhow 
what  has  been  the  general  fentiment  in  the  country  refpefting  the  (a£l,  but 
they  do  not  contain  the  obfcrvations  and  declarations  of  perfons,  who  have 
thrmfelves  been  the  obfcrvers  or  a6lors  in  any  of  thefc  extraordinary  trai^- 
a£lions.  The  following  communications  will  be  found  more  eircujnflso' 
*h\  and  particular. 


APPENDIX. 


4S$ 


at  feveral  timet, 
It  on  the  tops  o! 
s  rtxed  upon  tlia 
jte  ;  fiom  which 
ifcioatcd,  ihough 
/vn  along  the  tree 
:hc  fnake,  whofc 
thefe  poor  crea- 
ming up  the  tree, 
;  they  arc  forced 
roach  the  nearer 
uh,  which  ftands 
lirds  are  continu- 
round,  where  the 
creatures  a  mor- 
bc  thus  inierpre- 
ihe  fnake,  which 
vounded  creature 
m  the  violence  of 
n  into  its  mouth, 
of  the  pain  which 
ftcd,  that  the  bite 
E  objefted,  that  if 
o  give  it  a  mortal 
Climes  docs  with 
Efobjeftion  which 
which  I  received 
■  it.     The  fquirrcl 
;h,  the  fpetlatora 
d  the  fnake  ;  aiid 
i  deftined  for  de- 
f  they  had  broke 
he  fnake,  fo  as  to 
kly,  not  flopping 
or  birds  go  away 
bned  or  bitten  by 
,  and  to  be  forced 
lid  not,  however, 
iherefoie  it  f^ems 
cs  fixed  on  then, 
^of  the  worthieft 
founiverfally  be- 
gcner?.!  laughter." 
jcral  fentiments  of 
nt  of  the  country. 
t  be  derived  from 
have  been  formed 
c  of  our  anccftors 
nd  the  Indian  ac- 
it  fcems  to  have 

is  matter,  do  not 
rhey  clearly  ft>o\y 
ing  the  faft,  but 
)erfons,  who  have 
iraordinary  trai\|f- 
more  eircuinfl»n' 


•  x.  Arlington,   Feb.  1795. 

IW  your  Natural  Hiftory  of  Vermont,  you  have  mentioned  (ome- 
thing  concerning  the  raitic  .ind  black  Inakts  charmiii!;  birds,  which  doc* 
not  reduce  the  matter  to  ahloiute  ceriaintv-  If  you  think  th<  'lowing 
account  oa  the  fubjefl  any  way  intercding,  it  is  at  your  fcrvice. 

TIMOTHY  TODD. 
WHEN  I  was  a  lad,  in  ranging  the  fields  for  birds  eggs.  1  heard  * 
thrufh  making  her  ufual  noifc  of  didrcis,  and  luppofed  fome  boy  wai  ta- 
king its  neft  or  young  :  App'oaching  towards  bcr  noifc,  I  dilcoveied  her 
circling  the  air  not  many  feet  from  the  ground,  flicwing  every  fign  of  dif- 
trcls.  Having  viewed  her  fome  minutes,  br inj;  unable  to  account  for  the 
phenomena,  1  at  length  difcovercd  the  largcll  black  Inakc  which  I  had 
ever  fecn,  lying  (irctchcd  out  under  the  centre  of  tfie  bird's  motion:  Heing 
ftruck  with  horror  at  the  fight,  I  ran  ofT,  and  believe  the  fnake  did  not  fee 
me.  My  father,  hearing  the  circumftance  on  my  ittmn  home,  lold  me  the 
fnake  was  charming  the  bird. — Some  years  afterward,  when  nearly  arrived 
to  the  age  of  manhood,  walking  in  a  field  in  Conncflirut,  near  a  fmall 
grove  of  walnut  trees,  1  faw  a  fparrow  circling  tic  air  juft  in  the  margin  of 
the  wood,  and  making  drcadfdl  moans  of  diffiefs.  Immediately  the  for* 
mer  circi'mlfance  occurreil,and  I  aporoachcd  with  caution  within  twenty 
feet  of  a  black  fnake,  about  fcvcn  feet  long,  having  a  wfiite  throat,  and  m 
the  kind  which  ;  lie  people  there  call  runners,  or  choking  fnakes.*  The 
fnake  lay  flreiched  out  in  a  Rill  pollurc  ;  I  viewed  him  and  the  bird  ncaf 
half  an  hour.  The  bird  in  every  (urn  in  its  flight  defccntlcd  fiearer  the 
objeft  of  its  terror,  until  it  approached  the  mouth  of  the  ferpent.  The 
fnake,  by  a  quick  motion  of  its  head,  feizcd  thr  bird  by  the  feathers,  and 
plucked  out  feveral.  The  bird  flew  of?  a  few  feet,  but  quickly  returned. 
The  fnake  cotttinued  to  pluck  the  feathers  at  every  flight  of  the  bird,  until 
}t  could  no  longer  fly  :  The  biid  would  then  hop  up  to  the  fnake  and 
from  him,  until  it  had  not  a  feather  ie't,  except  his  wings  and  on  its  head. 
The  fnake  now  killed  it  by  breaking  its  neck,  by  an  amazing  fuddcn  mo- 
tion ;  he  did  not  devour  it,  but  catt  it  a  little  off','ar.d  continued  his  flation. 
Now  the  tragedy  was  aj;ain  to  be  repeated  ;  for  another  bird  of  the  fame 
kind,  who  had  (hewn  figns  of  diffrefs  during  the  firff  tragedy,  was  fafcina- 
ted  to  the  jaws  of  the  monfftr  in  tlie  fame  circling  manner  as  the  former, 
»nd  fufFered  the  lofs  of  fome  feathers.  I  could  no  longer  ftand  neuter. 
With  indignation  I  attacked  the  hated  reptile,  but  he  cfcaped  mc.  The 
living  Bird  was  liberated  from  his  fangs.  The  dead  one  I  picked  up  and 
fliewcd  to  my  friends,  dcflitutc  of  feathers  as  before  mentioned. 


Brandon  J    July  l. 


^795' 


Dear  ^iit, 

I  find  you  follcilous  of  information  rcfpefting  the  charm  of  the 
fnake  or  ferpent — perhaps  the  following  account,  which  I  received  from 
the  mouth  of  a  lady,  who  was  herfelf  an  unltappy  fufferfir,  may  not  be 
amifs  or  unacceptable. 

*  It  is  faid  that  this  kind  ff  fnake  will  entwine  himfelf  round  the 
body  or  reck  of  a  pcrfon,  and  choke  him  :  It  may  be  a  vulgar  error  :  This, 
however,  is  certain,  they  will  often  ptirfur  a  prrfon  who  runs  from  them. 
I  have  hrard  that  they  frequently  ciiarincd  fquirrcls  and  fome  other  ani* 
inals,  and  in  fome  inftances  the  human  fprcies ;  An  inftancc  or  two  which 
happened  to  boys,  will  perhaps  belore  long  be  prcfrutAid,  wiiU  the  ocoper 
Touchers. 

V9L.     T.  M    ,'^ 


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^«J 


APPENDIX. 


If  I  iMittun  forgattent  l«ern»tne  wa«  Fiortey.ct  LaoSnjfburgh— flfie  lo!(! 
me  aboat  (iv«  ynrt  ago,  ihat  not  tong  before  thu  (im«,  ai  (he  was  walkin^r 
by  the  corner  of  acenatn  fence,  oot  far  from  Mjrth  River,  Ihe  was  lud- 
dcniy  amufed  withthe  chirp.ng  of  afnake,  «irhec!«er  a  black  ordripeJ  onc^ 
I  havet«ri|;au«a.  As  (be drew  nigher to iJic fence,  Hir  diCcoverrd  the  fnakc, 
pitching  ict  head  to  and  fro,  throufrb  a  heap  at  <iea<(  briilh  ;  deeply  cin 
gaged  wiiK  itacharnij,  (he  forgot  lierTdf,  till  a  neighbor  pafrtD);  by,  bruk? 
tier  attention  :  When  (he  felt  hcrfdf  at  thougd  fhc  had  bron  among  pot« 
foaoQi  herbi,  itching,  &c.  which  ilTued  in  a  long  fit  of  (icknefs,  which  he^ 
phyfician  afcribed  to  the  fafcination  of  the  fnilce,  and  (he  tiad  not  per- 
fk£k\y  recovered  when  I  faw  her. 

I  am,  &c.  I.  WATKINS. 


Cjoc5oo5oo5oo5co2oo2o 


E.V/rtf^  0/  a  lettsr 


from  Samuel  Beacht 
July  2 a^,  }']<)$. 


dated  Whitl 


wg, 


WHEN  a  lad,  I  Kvcd  with  my  father  in  the  then  province  of  N^ew 
^rfey,  where  the  black  fnake,  with  a  white  throat,  commonly  called  the 
racer,  as  well  as  the  rattle  fnake,  and  other  ferpents,  are  frequently  met 
with  ;  and  I  never  remember  »o  have  heard  any  one  dilputc  the  power  of 
charming  belonging  to  fevcral  fpccies  of  ferpents,  but  niore  commnti  to  the 
black  fnska, called  the  racer,  which  I  have  twice  fctn  >tt  the  operation. 

The  following  (fory,  I  have  often  heard  related,  and  lo  which  people  in 

general  gave    credit,    of   a  fnake's  fafcinating  a  young  IjJ  : Two  Boys 

were  fent  into  the  woods  to  look  for  cattle,  and  corning  to  a  piece  of  open 
land,  where  Tome  colliers  had  been  a  (hoit  time  before  burniug  coal,  the/ 
Aoppcd  to  liften  for  the  bells  that  were  on  the  cattle  they  were  in  (earch 
of ;  and  near  where  they  (food,  they  obfcrved  a  very  large  fnake,  of  the 
racer  kind  :  One  of  the  boys  obfervcd  to  ths  other,  that  if  he  would  watch 
the  motion  of  the  fnake,  he  himfelf  was  determined  to  fee  if  it  would  faf. 
cinate  or  charm  him  ;  and  faid,  *  you  have  a  Aick  in  your  hand,  and  if 
you  (ee  me  like  to  be  too  much  injured  by  the  fnake,  you  may  kill  him, 
and  relieve  me.'  This  the  other  agreN-*  to  do  ;  when  the  firft  advanced  a 
few  fteps  nearer  the  fnake  and  made  f  ibnd,  looking  Aeadily  on  him ; 
•yvhen  the  fnake  obfcrved  him  in  that  fituuiion,  he  raifed  his  head  with  a 
quick  motion,  and  the  lad  fays,  that  at  that  inftant  there  appeared  fomc- 
thing  to  flalh  in  his  eyes,  which  he  could  compare  to  nothing  more  limilar, 
than  the  rays  of  light  thrown  from  a  glafs  or  mirror  when  turned  in  the 
fun  (hine;  he  faid  it  dazzled  ht$eyei,  at  the  fame  time  the  colours  appeared 
very  beautiful,  and  were  in  large  rings,  circles,  or  rolls,  and  it  fcemcd  to 
be  dark  to  him  every  where  clle,  and  his  head  began  to  be  diazy,  much 
like  being  over  fwift  running  water.  He  then  fays,  he  thought  he  would 
go  from  the  fnake  ;  and  as  it  was  dark  every  where  but  in  the  circle,  he 
was  fearful  of  treading  any  where  eUe  ;  and  as  they  flill  grew  in  lefs  cir- 
cumference,  he  could  Aill  fee  where  to  ilcp  ;  but  as  thedizzincfs  lo  hir 
head  (lill  increafed,  and  he  tried  to  call  to  his  comrade  for  help,  but  could 
not  fpeak,  it  then  appeared  to  him  as  though  he  wai  in  a  vortex  or  whirl- 
pool, and  that  every  turn  brought  him  nearer  the  centre. 

His  comrade,  who  had  impatiently  waited,  obferving  htm  move  ob- 
liquely forwards  to  the  right  and  left,  and  at  every  turn  approaching  nearer 
the  fnake,  and  making  a  ilrange  groaning  noife,  not  unlike  a  perfon  in  a  fit 
of  the  night  mare,  he  faid  he  could  fland  ftill  no  longer,  but  immediately^' 
ran  and  killed  the  fnake,  which  was  of  the  largell  ftze. 


rs  - 


APPENQIK. 


4e^ 


Tf(f  hit  thit  hid  Vem  criaTm***!  wjj  much  tfrriffed,  nm  »»  •  trcmOT   ; 
t'xi  ftii't  waj  in  >  lew  minatri  wet  with  fwcat ;  he  comp'aured  much  of » 
^irziiurs  ni  hi*  head,  Mtcndrd  whh  pain,  2:id  jppciied  to  be  ia  i  tncUiv 
(liuty,  Oi'pid  f>tu«<ion  for  iome  days  after. 

1  iiavr  heard  the-  (lory  f'j  ufitn  icla'.ed  by  diffcTent  psfrosvthjt  I  cantot 
^Mt  ^ive  credit  to  k. 


Sir, 


o5o>foc«vo;;530ioc!i5oc55 


I  HAVE  obferved  that  you  arc  dedrmif  ofeoIJ«fting  inforrni*- 
tion  retjti'e  to  ilic  fafcinatiog  power  of  fcrpcnts—  If  you  think  the  follow- 
ing innancc  worihy  a  place  ta  yoar  ufefol  coMcflton,  you  arc  at  liberty  to 
iiTcrt  it. 

When  I  vtaj  a  boy  aboot  13  years  of  age,  my  father  fent  me  'intc  a  field 
to  mow  f  aic  biijrs.  I  had  rx>t  been  }ong  employed,  till  I  difcovered  » 
Jarge  ra'ile  liuke,  and  }oi)ked  round  loi  fomething  to  kill  him;  but  not 
teadi\y  di'C  wct'ini/^  ■  wcapin,  my  curiofity  Jed  me  to  vtevr  him.  He  lay 
coiled  Uf>  wiih  his  tall  ereft,  a'-.J  making  the  ufual  finging  noife  with  hi» 
lattlcs.  1  had  vieweilt  him  b  it  a  fhort  time,  when  the  moH  vivid  and 
lively  colours  that  injagiiiation  can  pir>i,  and  far  beyond  the  powers  ot  the 
pencil  to  imi  ate,  iimong  \»hich  yellow  was  the  moft  predominaot,  and 
ihe  whole  drawn  in'oa  bfwiitfiing  vaiiety  of  gay  and  pleating  forms,  were 
prefented  to  my  tyes  ;  at  the  fame  time,  niy  ears  were  enchanted  with  the 
moft  rapturo:ii  f)iaios  of  mufic,  wild,  lively, complicated  and  harmonious, 
in  the  highift  e?  gree  melodious,  captivating  and  enchanting,  far  beyond 
any  thing  i  cvi'v  heard  bcf'^ic  or  fince,  and  indeed  far  exceeding  what  my 
jmaginaiion  in  any  oihcr  fituai.ion  could  have  conceived.  I  felt  myfcif  ir» 
Tcfjilibly  drawn  toward  the  hated  icptiJe  ;  and  as  1  had  been  often  ufed  to, 
feeing  and  kiiling  rattle  fnakcs,  and  iny  fcnfes  were  fo  ablorbed  by  the 
gay  vifion  aiid  rapuioir^  tnufic,  I  was  rot  for  fome  lime  apprehenfive  of 
much  danger;  hut  (iicUlin'y  recollcfting  what  I  had  heard  the  Indians  re- 
late (bat  what  1  lad  >  cvrr  before  believed)  of  the  fafcinating  power  of 
thcfc  fcrpciits,  I  turned  v>iii>  horror  from  the  dangerous  fcene  ;  but  it  wa» 
tint  ^vi•h  >ut  the  mort  violent  cfJ.)rt5  that  I  was  able  to  extricate  myfelf. 
All  the  exertions  I  could  make,  with  my  whole  ftrength,  were  hardly  fuf- 
ffientto  carry  me  from  the  (cenr  ot  horrid^  yet  pleafing  enchantment; 
and  while  I  forcibly  dra-;^ed  off  my  body,  my  bead  Iccmed  to  be  irrefjfti- 
b!y  drawn  to  the  rnchan,er,  by  an  invifsblc  power.  And  I  fuiJy  believe, 
that  in  a  (fw  moments  lon'.^er  it  would  have  been  wholly  out  of  my  pow- 
er to  make  an  exeition  fLifE-ient  to  gfi  away. 

The  latter  part  of  the  fcene  I  was  extremely  frightened,  and  ran  as  faft 
as  p;)inblc  ti>v,;ards  lit-mc,  my  fright  increafing  with  myfpecd.  The  firft 
pcrfon  I  fa.w  vas  rr;y  uiicle,  who  difcoveiing  my  tii^jht,  ran  to  meet  me, 
and  a(l,?d  the  occaGori  of  it  :  I  told  him  I  had  been  frightened  by  a  rattle 
ftia'rtf  ;  bii:  was  io  loo  great  a  periurb^tion  to  relate  ttie  whole.  He  ralliea 
irie  for  inv  pifitlanirriity,  and  look  roe  by  the  hand,  and  we  went  to  the 
place  where  the  fnnke  vicrs  fltll  Ijing,  which  was  foon  difpatched  by  my 
uncle.  I  then  rilated  the  Uury  io  him,  and  have  fmce  told  it  to  nun y 
other  pc)  fonj. 

The  iii^ht  i'iIio."ing  I  never  c^ofed  my  eyes  r  The  fame  fcene  continn- 
ally  haunifd  my  iniarjnation.  Whe'her  the  agitation  was  occafioncd 
mcicly  by  the  rccnii.  dion  of  wha'  had  pafTid,  or  whether  the  operation 
x)f  the  charm  f^iil  had  fome  ical  efTcft  uoon  Ihe  nervous  fvffem,  1  cannot 
determine.  -•  £UAS  WILLARD. 


XI.^>JOU^H,  CcT,  2j,   1 


7f;w' 


i! 


.,  1  'I  h 


I' I 


.,! 


i; 


:( 


1 


I  i 

I   i! 


Ilr 


!■:  li 


V 


488 


APPENDIX. 


UPON  a  eireful  examination  of  the  above  accouati,  I  cannot  fee  (hat 

any  obreivaiioni  aie  to  be  cxpefled  upon  thii  fiibjeQ,  morr  accurate  oi* 
particular  ;  or  which  could  probably  be  attended  with  mnre  convincing 
atleUaiiontnr  evidence  oV  their  bein»;  authentic  and  correal.  Or.  Todd,  it 
a  phyfician  of  much  ability  and  dillindion,  formerly  prcfidcnt  of  the 
medical  foriety,  and  one  of  the  Council  of  thii  State,  and  now  reftdent  ia 
Connecticut.  Mr.  1.  Witkins  wan  a  miniller  of  the  gofpel  at  Brandon, 
and  now  livei  in  the  date  of  New  York.  Mr,  Beach  hai  been  attentive  tq 
the  natural  produilinns  of  the  country,  and  now  livci  at  Whiting.  Mr. 
'Willard  died  at  Tinmouih  a  (cw  years  ago,  and  wai  a  man  of  much  inior- 
mation,  virtue,  and  veracity.  And  I  cannot  dilcern  any  article  or  circuin- 
iiitxce  in  their  lelaiiuns  ot  thele  matter*,  which  appears  to  be  of  a  doubt* 
ful,  deceptive,  ur  ta'laeiou*  lutvre.  'Ihey  relate  fimply  and  merely  to 
matters  of  i»t\,  and  arc  declarations  of  what  they  heard,  oblei  vcd  and  telt ; 
matters  of  which  they  c:rtainly  were  adequate  and  competent  ubtervert 
and  judges. 

Among  a  nuu^bcr  of  accounts  of  a  fimilar  nature,  I  thall  only  mentiop 
f»ne  more,  which  I  hive  irom  Col.  James  Claghorn,  of  Rutland,  which  ia 
inftrtcd  not  (o  much  witii  a  view  to  cAjblilh  the  fad,  but  laihcr  as  afFurd< 
ing  foine  information  rtfpe£ting  the  manner  and  procels  of  the  operation. 
At  Salilbury  in  Coimcfticut,  fome  years  ago,  wheic  the  Colonel  then  lived, 
there  were  two  men  of  the  name  ot  Baker  and  Nichols.  Goinj; 
towards  the  meeting  houfc  in  that  place,  they  discovered  a  large  )a[tli''. 
fnake,  in  a  pUin  open  piece  of  land.  The  Inake  lay  coiled  up  in  ;:  [inltuie 
ef  defence  ;  to  attack  him  with  lafcty,  they  procured  a  long  (lender  pole 
or  Iwiich,  with  which  they  could  reach  him  without  bcin,;  in  any  daii^er 
from  his  motions.  As  the  fnake  could  not  elcapc,  they  (livened  ilicm> 
felves  with  iriitating  iim  with  iheir  pole,  without  giving  him  any  cun- 
fidciablc  wound.  I'iiey  hjd  coriicd  on  this  burintls  fome  time,  during 
which  thefnakc  had  repeatedly  aiteniped  to  fp  ing  upon  tl.ein  liom  his 
coils,  anil  tue'capc  by  running:;  ;  and  dilcoveri'^  uiic(<mmon  apptauiiiccs 
of  rage  and  difappoiniment.  ticing  picvenied  in  all  his  attempts  to  elcape 
irom,  or  to  bite  his  uppolcrs,  he  fuddcnly  (httchcd  himlilf  at  hi.-!  lull 
length,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  ihe  man  who  wai  ticklin;;  him  with  the  end 
of  his  p.ilc.  The  fnake  lay  ptifeftly  ftitl,  and  Mr.  Nichols  kept  on  i he 
fame  motions  with  his  fwiich.  Wiien  this  f^ccne  had  continued  lor  a  (lioic 
lime,  Mr.  Nichols  leeii/ed  to  incline  his  body  moi<"  and  more  towards  the 
fnake,  and  began  to  move  towaids  him  in  a  vciy  lliw  and  irregular  man- 
ner. Hakcr,  who  ttood  looking  on,  noticed  thelt  appearances,  and  called 
to  Nichols  to  defiil  fii.in  tie  bufmels,  and  dirp.iicii  the  (hike.  He  took 
no  notice  of  thi.fe  admuniiions,  but  aopcaied  to  have  his  whole  attention 
fixed  on  the  Inake,  was  obleivtd  to  be  gradually  mi^ving  towards  him,  to 
have  a  pale  alpccf,  and  to  be  in  a  piolufc  fweat.  Alaimcd  wiih  the  prof, 
pedl,  Baker  took  him  by  the  Ihouldcrs,  gave  him  a  violent  fliake,  pulied 
him  away  by  force,  aiid  enquiied  what  vvu.s  the  matter.  Nichols,  thus 
iorced  liom  the  Icene,  made  an  uncommon  mournlul  noile  of  dillnfs,  aj;- 
peaied  to  be  uncommonly  and  i  niverfally  stlided,  aid  in  a  tew  minuter 
leplied  to  the  enquiries  that  he  did  not  know  whatailed  him,  that  hecouiU 
rot  tell  how  he  felt,  that  he  had  never  Iclt  lo  Lifoic,  that  he  did  not  kiio*v 
what  was  the  matter  with  him,  but  was  very  unwell. 

The  above  accounts  relate  only  to  the  falcinaiing  power  of  (wo  of  the 
ftrpents  of  America.  Singular  and  extraoidinary  as  they  may  appear,  wc 
\iave  very  authentic  relations  that  the  fame  power  is  foutid  in  ioma  of  t^t 
ferpcBia  of  the.«lher.  hcfnifphere. 


^ 


APPENDIX. 


48» 


On«  very  rfm«rkabIenccounl  of  this  kind  ij  from  Ilily  by  Dr.  Sprrnncll.* 
^t  Miian  he  tojnd  *  viper  catcher,  viht  feldom  wai  without  lixty  or  more 
viperi  ilivr,  kept  together  in  a  hack  rnotn,  open  at  top;  he  had  them  from 
all  parts  <>[  Italy,  aiul  Told  them  drscl  nr  alive  according  to  the  u(cs  thry 
were  dill,  ned  lor.  H.r/ing  one  day  got  a  female  viper,  bij;  with  young, 
we  catched  fonie  mice,  and  threw  in  nnc  at  a  timcj  amonglk  .dl  that  num- 
ber ol  viocrs,  which  wi>rc  uij.  'ds  of  fixty,  there  was  none  ol  ihrni  in  the 
Icall  < oncorned  himfclf  aooiit  tin-  niiufc,  till  the  prc>;njnt  Icmalc  vipei  and 
the  moufc  interchanged  eyes ;  whereupon  the  moule  flartlcd  ;  but  the  vu 
per  railf-d  her  head,  and  turned  her  neck  into  a  prrlctl  bow,  the  month 
Open,  i:ic  tongue  playing,  the  eyes  all  on  (ire,  and  the  tail  erc£t  :  The 
inoulc  feemed  foon  recovered  ol  hi*  frij^ht,  would  take  a  turn  <)i  two,  and 
fometimes  more,  pretty  brifkly  round  the  viper,  and  giving  at  timet  a 
iq'icak,  would  run  with  a  great  deal  of  fwiftncfi  into  the  chops  ol  the  vi-. 
per,  where  it  gradually  funk  down  the  gullet.  All  this  while  the  viper 
never  iiirred  out  ol  her  place,  but  lay  in  a  ling." 

'  It  is  to  be  obTerved,  that  no  viper  will  feed  when  confined,  except  s 
pregnant  female  viper.  The  Doftor  faw  the  l.'mc  tning  at  BrulTcls,  whcie 
t  foldier  bad  catchcd  a  large  viper  big  with  young. 

oCooJooJooiJooJooSooiJo 

[From  th»  Travels  or  LeValli  ant  in  AmicA.^ 
IN  the  additional  vohimei  ol  the  travels  o(  Le  Vallum  into  .Africa, 
appear  fome  very  niikingfatfs  relative  to  the  fafcina  ing  power  ot  f.!rptiii:. 
Two  of  them  are  authenticated  on  the  evidence  ol  ihs  author  himfell,  and 
the  other  is  ftnCfioncd  by  his  belief  in  tlie  ve'acitv  of  the  rrlator. 
The  inflancei  produced  by  l.e  Vailiant  are  britdy  a  follow  : 
Firft  inftance. — "One  day,  in  one  ot  oir  cxcu'ru>ns  in  hunin^,  we 
perceived  a  motion  in  the  branches  ol  one  of  the  ires.  Immediately  wo 
heard  the  piercing  cries  of  a  fhrike,  and  'aw  it  trcmMo  a&if  in  cohvuKi  )nj. 
We  fir  It  conceived  thai  it  was  held  in  tfie  giipc  ol  fome  bud  of  picv  ; 
but  a  clofer  attention  led  us  to  difcover  upon  the  next  bram  h  of  tlic  rrfc, 
a  large  lerpcnt,  that  with  fireichcd  out  neck,  and  fiery  eyes,  thoii^'i  pcrlcft~ 
ly  Hill,  was  gazing  at  the  poor  animi'  Cne  a^ooy  of  the  liiid  was  terri- 
ble 5  but  fear  had  deprived  it  of  firtngth,  and,  as  if  tied  by  the  Ic;^,  it 
leemed  to  have  loft  the  power  of  fl'i.'.'it.  One  of  the  com  lanv  ra  1  for  a 
fufce  ;  but  before  he  returned,  the  fhrike  was  de^d,  and  we  only  Ihei  the 
fcrpent.  I  rerjurlled  that  the  diflaiuc  between  ih-  place  where  tiie  bird 
had  experienced  the  coiivulfions,  and  that  occupied  by  the  lerpent  mi^^ht 
be  meafured.  Upon  doing  fo,  we  lound  it  to  f)c  ilircc  feet  and  a  half,  and 
we  wcrp  all  convinced  that  ihe  Ihiike  had  died  ncitiicr  from  the  bite,  nor 
the  poifon  of  its  enemy.  I  ftripped  ii  alio  bctore  the  whole  company, 
and  made  themobferve,  that  it  was  untouched,  and  had  not  received  the 
ilifjhteft  wound." 

Second  inllince. — "  Hunting  one  day,  in  a  marlby  piece  of  ground,  I 
heard,  all  at  once,  in  a  tuft  ot  reeds,  a  piercing  and  very  I.Mn.-ii'ablc  cry» 
Anxious  to  knov^f  what  it  was.  I  ft  de  loftly  to  the  place,  wiierc  I  jurceiv. 
ed  a  fmall  moufe,  like  the  fhrike  on  the  tree,  in  agoiuziiiT  ronvuinons,  and 
two  yard*  farther  a  ferpent,  whofe  eye*  were  intently  fixed  upon  it.  The 
moment  the  reptile  faw  me,  it  glided  away;  but  the  bufinefs  was  done. 
Upon  taking  up  the  moule,  it  expired  in  my  hand,  without  it*  bcinj  pof- 
f*iblc  for  mc  to  difcovcr,  by  the  moil  attentive  cxjiaination,  what  had  oc- 
ufioncd  its  death." 
'  •     *  Phil.  Tranf.  No.  357. 


I 


If 


. !  \  ; 

*    1 


'  t. 


I 


J  il  11 


-.i 


!;  I 


1- 


5 

t 


u, 


I- 


•r 


49n 


^^PPENDIX. 


Third  infiancrf. — "  The  Ho'icn'oti,  v.hnm  I  coii(^i!(ed  upon  fhij  uic». 
dent,  cxprifT^d  ro  (ort  of  a'loiiinini'nt.  No  h\r\g,  ih^y  laid,  v.as  morr, 
fo^mori  ;  the  ffiftnt  I^hI  U>€  Uculiy  of  aUtaHing  a:id  faTciiiating  fucK 
animal'  as  i'.  v.  il.tH  to  I'tvnir,  ]  had  llicn  ro  f.iiih  in  fuch  powtr  ;  bu; 
foms  time  afirr,  fjjcakinj^  tif  th«'  tirciiniflance  in  a  cornpaoy  oi  moic  lliir 
^\^<■ruy  pctfoiis,  ill  tht  iiijnhtt  f)i  who'T)  wa-s  Colonel  Gordon  ;  a  Citptair. 
pf  his  repimtn;  corhmtd  thcacceant  Oili'ic  Hottfn'ois,  aiul  i'fl'ircd  mcii 
vas  an  tvcnt  v  Kich  l,a;[^'.;itd  very  ffcquen'ly,  •  My  it'dim  iriy,'  addcA 
he,  '  ought  lo  have  itir.  m  >rf  wcij;'!!,  si  1  luJ  once  nejrly  become  niyltl? 
a  vi6lim  to  this  fafciiia:ii-i>,  WliUcin  ganifon  at,  Cevl'>n-  an*''  •'^muOijT 
inyfel',  lik;  \oo,  in  liMcilng  in  a  riiurlli,  I  was,  ia  thf  ciurTc  of  ir.y  (port, 
I'uddfiily  feizcd  '.vitha  couvLlfivf.  zcid,  involu»itary  ircrnbling,  ditierfi.t. 
from  any  ihin£  1  h.id  cvir  cxpcriencid,  fid  ?t  the  fdnT:  lime  v.as  Urougly 
atirafted,  and  in  fpitc  of  niyidf,  lo  a  j.aiiicular  fpot  of  the  maifb.  l>i- 
>cfting  tny  eyes  lo  the  fpot,  1  Ld'cfd,  with  ftclings  of  horror,  a  fcrpent  cf 
an  eiiormousr  (ize,  v\hofc.  look  infiantly  pierctd  nrjc.  Having,  howevciv 
not  jet  lofl  all  p'^lv^Tr  of  notion,  I  tn->b'3cccl  the  oppoiiuni.-.'v  befoi*  •• 
was  too  late,  and  falute:rf  the  tcj  ti!e  v.ith  the  conienu  of  Riy  fufce.  The 
icport  wa;  a  lilifoun  that  i)ro!<c  thcrharm.  All  aton-e,  as  it  by  m'irarle, 
my  coDvulfun  ceafcd  ;  I  fcit  ixi^icW  able  lo  fly  ;  end  thr  only  inconvrn- 
rencc  of  this  f  xMao.d'nary  adven'.utc  v.as  a  cotd  fwcat,  which  \*as  doub!- 
Jefs  the  (fftft  of  my  fear,  and  cvt  li^c  violent  ag^iia.ioa  my  fr!i!c&bad  uii- 
dcrgofie." 

♦'  S-itli  v.a.^  the  account  gl.en  v)f  by  this  oFTicer.  I  do  not  pretend  t? 
vouch  for  i;s  truth  ;  bu'.  ih?  liory  of  ihc  moufc,  as  well  as  of  tin"  (hrikc,  t 
aver  to  be  a  la£t." 

The  lanri"  phenomena  ibcn  have  beenobrcrvcd  in  Europe,  Afia,  a/id  '^fr■■ 
ira,  as  wtH  as  iti   America.      11  thci,  wc  lorni  oin  iadgmcnt  frcm  cbfitva- 
tion,  the  condufioo  will  be,  that  in  every  part  of  the  euth,  the  1. 1;  cnt  l'?v 
difplaycd  difTcrcnt  powers  aix'.  facultiefj  hum  what  have  zppeartd  in  r.-iiv 
^rani.nols, 

Ronarks    and  Conj.'{lu}-ct  on  the  ahov:  AccsurJ;- 

1.  Iron)  ifie  fcbovc  accounis  i  can  h<(rdl)  be  cloubttd.  b'jt  ih.il  the  ;.- 
per,  the  black,  rnd  tiic  taile  fnakc,  ha\e  a  power  l(i  jfYeft  birds,  lijair- 
lels,  and  the  .hurrun  r  )ce.  in  an  cxi.a  iidirary  in.d  p'iwtilul  r.idiinet  ;  f.'. 
as  to  cau'e  tficni  ;o  kipproaib  v  \rh!,n  ilic  reach  sA  ilirir  Hcvouriiij; 
jiws.  To  philofophtr*,  wlvo  cleriue  ell  their  ir.fo:  n.'alion  f/or.'/ 
iheir  bnr;ks,  a'.d  to  men  vihn  dcltrniiiie  from  theory  and  l)l'cu),  the  vvKnlr- 
aliair  palleo  for  vLi'^,,!r  deluhon  aiul  folly  ;  N.  i  vill  it  rvei  appear  pro- 
Viable  lo  any  per  f'^'ii  who  is  accuflcTncd  lo  r^o  c>tbet  way  f.f  reafor.ir.pj 
than  ihc  liictaph  .  fica'  nuihod  of  deeniiininj.' ftiiis  by  reaf(3niiigs  a /j^r;. 
that  tia:u)e  has  g,ivcn  to  the  fcrpenc  %cry  diflerent  poviirs  liorn  inrf.' 
vhieh  ft)^•  lias  irupaited  to  anv  <^ibei  fptcics  r>t  uninraiJ,  liu;  ii  ccrlainl) 
re  not  from  the  men  cf  miitaphyfiial  theory  and  fyiStni,  btr'  fjom  lli' 
cartful  oblervtrs  ol  n.iture,  fh.t  the  rnoR  impo-rnni  infcitma  ion  ii  to  If 
^xpetlcri  And  it  will  be  oifTicuk  to  find  any  tlefcff  in  tiie  I'bfeiva'i'.n: 
that  tir.ve  been  tneniiontd,  or  any  ctxumllincc  tiiat  denotes  them  lo  Ira-c 
fceen  debijivc  or  fjllacious.  1  rnuti  therchne  admit  it  as  a  well  EtirltCvT 
l[i6t,  that  nature  has  imparted  to  the  fer[>rnts mentioned  above  the  finf^ul.iic 
and  extraordinary  j  ovver  ©I  facination  ;  or  ,-fi(  dtirg  oihtr  aiiinivU  ia  liii-,'' 
«»_mar.i'.ci  as  to  cau"^*;  them  lo  rp jiroach  wiibin  ihtvt  tcjqh. 


-\,'V 


APPENDIX. 


iOi 


ipon  t'ti\3  w'>Ci> 
lid,  v.as  morr, 
Iciiiating  fucK 
i>  power  ;  but: 

of  moic  lliar. 
on  ;  a  captaii* 
!  i'fi'ircd  me  it 
m  iny/  adcicrt 
>L'Comc  nyltl? 

and  i^muOiij-^ 
e  of  n;y  (port, 
(ling,  diiicrfi.t. 
e  v.as  ftroDgly; 
le  tnaifb.  i>i- 
)r,  B  fcipcni  c/ 
.•ing,  Jiowcvci\ 
jiii;'v  beioi?  -^ 
ly  fufec.  The 
i  it  by  m'irarle, 
inly  iiKoiivrri. 
Tcl)  was  doubt •• 
■  frii!c&  had  urv 

nof  prftrnd  l-; 
A  tin"  Oil  ike,  I 

Afis,  and  ^h' 
t  frcm  cl'f(  rv2. 
t'nr  (•.i;'cni  Ivv 
njcartd  in  t.>iiv 


u;:f.-. 

ut  ili<<t  the  ;..- 
lirds,  lijuir- 
manner  ;  f-. 
fir  /icvourinj^ 
nialion    tfor.'V 

ti  appear  puv 
»;f  rcafoi.ii.pi 
r.iiitrt  a  piicfi. 
rs  liorn  t'no!' 
u;  i(  certain') 
l.ti'  tiom  i':i' 
ma  ifiri  is  til  I  i 
c  cLifciva'i'.n: 
V  ihrm  U)  liii-'. 
well  tufiif-i 
B)ve  '.be  finf^iil.i/ 


i.  Thii  power,  wlntever  it  be,  feems  to  be  exerted  by  mcanr  tf  the 
cyeof  tbc  fnake.  "The  eye  of  ibis  reptile,  hys  Mr.  Dudley,  the  rat- 
tlefnake)  has  fometbing  fo  fingular  and  teniblf ,  that  there  ii  no  lookirifj 
iledfaltly  upon  him."*  All  the  accotinis  agree  th^t  no  uncommon  e+Ftft 
is  perceived,  till  the  eye  of  the  animal  is  fixed  on  tha:  of  the  lerpent.  It 
{hould  fetm  from  Mr.  Beach's  and  Mr.  WMIard''?  acinunts,  that  the  ejc 
fef  the  fpeftator  is  no  fonnct  fixed  on  that  of  the  i';iake,  thd\i  the  molt  lively 
•and  beautiful  colouTS  arc  feen,  in  the  mofl  ciipy\or  and  mi  Planting  lonns, 
in  large  rings,  circles,  or  r.ills  :  and  that  ihcfe  cti'Tnlar  appearance*  of  the 
mod  beautiful  light  and  colours  aic  gradualiv  diminithing  in  their  circimi- 
f«renccs — Hence  tbc  encircled  animal  is  ci-n'.liiitiy  takin;;  irri;gular  or 
^irciibr  motions,  within  the  circle  uf  apparent  !i,';ht  ;  both  of  which  be- 
come more  and  more  comraftcd,  till  they  arc  brought  to  a  cen'.re  or  clofe 
at  the  head  of  the  fnakc. 

3.  The  operation  whafever  it  may  be,  takes  av/ay  the  fenl'es,  or  Oupi- 
fics  the  animal,  oil  which  the  operation  is  carried  oil.  This  W3S  the  caTe, 
and  to  a  high  drgrcc,  with  all  the  pcrfons  mentioned  \.t  the  abcVfi  ac- 
iounts.  They  found  thcmfelves  violently  affefted,  but  new  not  what  was 
the  matter.  At  the  beginning  of  the  fcene  they  fcemed  apprehenrivcof 
danger,  but  foon  loft  all  power,  and  all  inclination,  to  make  any  oppofiiion  ; 
Nor  was  there,  in  a  few  moments,  enough  left  of  the  rational  or  animal 
powers,  to  rtfleft  on  their  (iiuation,  difcern  their  danger,  contiive  a  method 
Or  make  any  attempt  to  cfcape.  Deprived  of  fenfe  and  reafoa  they  re- 
mained fubjeft  to  a  power  which  they  could  not  comprthcr.d  or  oppoie, 
ind  yet  in  great  arVd  extreme  dil>ref». 

4.  Can  there  be  any  fubtle  effluvia,  poifonous  exhalation,  o:*  HnpifyingT 
vitus,  emitted  by  the  eye  of  the  fcrpenl,  and  received  by  that  of  the  en- 
chanted animal,  equal  to,  and  producing  the  uncommon  cftV fts  which  have 
occn  mentioned.  This  feems  contrary  to  all  the  other  appearances  of  ani- 
mal nature  ;  and  yet  the  phenomena  feem  to  indicate  fuch  a  phyfical 
kind  of  operation.  The  body  of  the  bov  at  New-Jerfev  was  covered 
with  a  violent  fwcat.  His  head  was  affefled  with  a  dizzincfs,  and' 
paiii  :  nor  did  he  recover  his  health  for  feveral  days.  Mr.  Willard  efca- 
ped  before  the  fcene  was  comp!etf:d  and  found  iiimfelf  too  much  affcfted 
to  fleep  the  next  night ;  but  could  not  determine  whether  it  was  owing  to 
the  fright,  or  to  a  phyfical  effeft  on  the  nervous  fyftem.  In  the  lady  at 
Lanfingburgh,  the  fafcioation  iiTued  in  a  long  fit  of  fickncfs,  which  was 
not  cured  in  five  years.  Thefe  arc  phenomena  which  feem  not  only  to" 
denote  phyfical  operations,  but  fuch  as  were  of  a  very  powerful  and  extra- 
ordinary nature ;  and  which  feem  to  refemble  what  was  faid  of  thtf  bafa- 
liik  by  the  ancients. 

5.  Whether  ther«  is  any  thing  in  the  powers  of  other  animals  that  re- 
fembles  this  faculty  in  the  fcrpent,  I  am  not  enough  acquainted  v^ith  nat- 
ural hiftoryto  determine.  Some  pcifonshave  mentioned  the  D.J^and  the 
titt  as  exhibiting  feme  appearances  of  a  fimilar  power;  but  I  do  not  find 
any  fu^ficient  evidence  in  poof  of  ir.  Nor  do  I  know  of  any  thing  in  na- 
ture that  aporoximaics  to  a  fimilarity,  except  the  reftmblance  in  the  cf- 
fcft  whijch  light  appeais  to  have  on  fome  anima's. 

Some  infc6ls  will  fly  into  a  burningcandle,  and  remair  in  the  fiame  till 
'.heir  wings  are  confumed,  and  their  bodies  burned.  The  efTeft  of  light 
isalfo  appareat  in  fome  of  the  birds.  In  a  barn  in  which  the  fwal'oWs  re- 
fide  in  the  lummcr,  if  a  burning  caridle  be  carried  in  the  night,  the  fwai- 
lows  wiil  fooii  leave  their  places  of  reft,  and  gather  round  the  light.     Tha' 

*  Phil,  Trarif,  No,  376,  p   sgj. 


I  • 


\l' 


.'  t 


' 


V   i 


!*    -i, 


H 


M-'1f 


492 


APPENDIX. 


JRfhcrmen  in  almoft  everv  country,  frequently  avail  thetnMvet  of  the  (avxt 
dirpofuion  in  fome  fppci  s  of  fifti ;  and  cxppft  to  allure  them  to  their  boata 
or  wcaponi  by  thr  lighi  of  a  lanthorn  or  fmall  fire.  The  fportfmcn  in 
fome  countries.  cfFcft  thru  putpofes  by  the  reflcflion  of  light,  "  There 
is  a  method  amon^  Inoit^mrn  of  taking  larks  by  a  net  and  looking  glaiTec, 
■which  they  expre's  by  ihp  name  of  Doring.  Five  or  fix  looking  glades 
are  io  fixed  'o  a  l!ick,a.sto  reflect  the  lij»hi  upwards.  Thellickin  which  they 
are  fixed  is  (o  made  as  lo  revolve  on  its  axis  bv  means  of  a  firing  wound 
Touud'it.  When  the  machine  is  thus  twirled  round,  the  light  is  reflrfted 
upwards  by  the  miirnrsin  quick  and  confiant  fucceHion,  and  to  a  confid- 
erable  extent.  The  bird  is  faid  to  be  enticed  or  invited  by  the  glim- 
tnering  of  the  li^ht,  till  it  defctnds  and  lights  near  the  looking  glalTes,  and 
is  then  taken  by  the  nct."+  "  The  lark  cptcherg  in  fome  countries,"  fay» 
Brydone,  "  arefo  dexterous  at  this  maneuver,  that  with  a  fmall  mirror  they 
ihiow  the  rays  of  light  on  the  laik,  let  her  be  ever  fo  high  in  the  air;  which 
by  a  kind  ct  facin  tion,  brings  down  the  poor  animal  to  the  fnare."J 

Such  an  tfF<.£l  d-'cs  not  feetn  to  be  altogetlitr  diflimilar  lo  what  takes 
place  in  the  lacinaiionol  a  bitd  by  a  fcrptnt.  The  lad  at  New-Jerfey 
faid  thai  "  at  the  iriflant  the  fnake  fixed  his  eye  upon  him  there  appeared 
fomethiitg  to  flafh  in  his  eyes,  which  he  could  compare  to  nothing  moie 
limilar,  iiaii  the  rays  of  li^ht  ihrjwn  from  a  glafs  or  mirror  when  turned 
in  the  fun  (bine  ;  he  laid  i:  dazzled  his  eyes  &c."  -Nor  do  the  eyes  of  the 
fcrper.t  fecm  n>  be  unfiiiid  to  produce  lome  fuch  cfFcft.  There  is  fome- 
thiii;;  in  tlic  eyes  of  a  large  raitic  fnake  that  is  fo  fierce,  ardent,  and  pene- 
trating, thai  if  is  pain'"ul  to  look  upon  them  ;  and  we  do  in  faft  experi» 
cncc  phyfiLal  cffi.6ls,  which  to  fay  the  Icaft,  arc  agitating  and  very  uncomfor- 
table. 

6.  Whence  arofe  tlie  idea  of  any  uncommon  fubtilly  or  cunning  in  the 
ferpent  F  There  docs  not  feem  to  be  any  thing  in  the  whole  race,  which 
has  proved  agreeable,  ufelnl,  or  beneficial  to  mankind.  The  highefi  de- 
gree of  malice  and  ilangcr  werccxprcired  by  the  ancients,  by  the  phrafe  of 
a  ierpent  that  would  not  be  charmed  ;  that  is  phyfically  divefted  of  hi« 
difpofition  fo  bite.*  .And  yet  it  has  happened  that  this  fpccies  of  animals 
jn  a'.mofl  everv  country,  has  been  coufidered  as  the  emblem  of  fomething 
■wile  or  excellent. 

Straboand  Eufebius  fell  us  that  at  Ejephantina,  the  god  that  was  fiip. 
poftd  to  reprefcnt  the  architect  of  the  univerfe  was  adored  under  the  fi- 
Jureofa  ferpent.  In  his  hiftoryofthe  creali;)n,  Mofei  rcprefents  the 
Jerpent,  as  morefubtilc  than  any  i-eafi  of  the  field,  which  the  Lord  God  had 
jnade.  Thejewifh  and  ilic  Chrifii.in  theology  both  fuppofe  that  the 
form  of  the  lerocnt  was  that  which  the  teinptcr  chole,  to  give  the greateft 
probability,  influence,  and  fucC' fs  to  hisdcfigns  and  attempts  upon  the  hu- 
wian  race.  The  Saviour  of  mankind  in  his  cay>  >,ave  it  as  a  command 
to  his  difciples,  to  be  wife  as  fcrpents.  but  haimlefs  as  doves.  The  Egyp  > 
tians  twined  two  Terpen  s  toueihrr  round  the  globe,  probably  to  reprclent 
the  cqnilibrium  of  the  fyfiein  of  the  woild.  In  India,  the  pricfts  put  the 
ferpent  intoihc  hand*  of  their  divinities.  By  a  circle  made  by  a  ferpent 
•-viih  his  tail  in  his  mouth,  the  ancients  meant  to  reprefcnt  eternity;  by 
being  coild  rovtid  a  rticic,  h'.'  wns  fiippo''ed  to  exhibit  the  g^id  of  health  ; 
end  we  have  made  liiin  the  reprd'-niativc  of  ji'lice  and  prudence.  The 
Jews,  liie  Greeks  and  the  Muffjlmcn,  have  all  viewed   this  reptile  in  » 

f  Supplrmrnt  to  Chambers's  DiOionary,     Arti-Ie  Dor  i  no. 

;J  Rrsd<Mie's  tour  tliri)i.ij;h  S  cilv  ^nd  Malta.     Bofion  Edit.  p.  jjj. 


•  JPlalm  ^8. 


3»  4' 5"    Jeremiahs.  17.     Ecclefiaftes  io.  u, 


APPENDIX. 


49S 


et  oF  the  (awe 
n  to  their  boats 
:  fponlmcn  in 
rht.  "  Thfre 
looking  gladet, 
looking  glaffes 
k  in  which  they 
a  firing  wound 
ght  is  Tfflf-fted 
id  to  a  confid- 

by  the  glim, 
ing  glaflesi  and 
ountries,"  fayt 
lall  mirror  they 
I  the  air;  which 
le  fnare."J 
to  what  takes 
at  Ncw-Jerfcy 
there  appeared 

nothing  mote 
If  when  turned 
I  the  eyes  of  ihe 
rhcre  is  fome- 
ent,  and  pene- 
n  faft  ex  peri- 
very  uncomfor- 

cunning  in  the 
Ic  race,  which 
he  higheft  de- 
iy  the  phrafe  of 
diverted  of  hit 
ecies  of  animals 
I  of  foroething 

that  was  fup- 
iioder  the  fi™ 
rcprefents  the 
Lord  God  had 

ppofc  that  the 
vc  thegrcateft 

[s  upon  the  hu- 
a  command 
,  The  Egy?.' 
'  to  reprelent 
pricfls  put  the 
by  a  ferpcnt 
eternity ;  bv 

'nd  of  health  ; 
udcnce.      The 

is  reptile  in  » 


NO. 


!l"nf;ii!ar  Ujjht ;  and  hf  "las  every  where  been  ufcd  to  denote  fomclhirg  va'H- 
abi'.  <"  (1  u'elul. 

Whtixc  aroft  all  this  celf briiy  at'd  thpfc  idras  of  his  wifdnm  or  cun- 
ning: ?  .\nd  how  came  <»  rrian\  clfTtiem  na'ions  lo  afi:x  :hc  idta;,  of 
■wiirlom,  power,  and  utility,  to  a  taci-  ot  ai'imals  ihtt  do  noi  appeal  to  uc 
eithti  frientUy,  or  of  •any  advantage  to  marik'iid  ?  1  cannot  alcertaiii  fi>ln;r 
theoriiiin.  or  the  cau^c  of  the  icputaiion  thai  has  btenaffigned  to  a  riptiie, 
which  appears  to  be  the  molt  ulelefs,  odious  and  obnoxious,  of  tbc  whole 
anin-i.il  rac.';  nor  can  I  deiermine  whether  the  ancients  wcie  ac(]uaiiiitd 
vi'.h  his  rin^'.ular  povACis.  They  hive  bv  en  obdrvtd  in  Europe,  Afia, 
Africa,  and  '\merica  ;  but  1  do  no*  find  an\  thing  in  the  earlieft  writingSt 
tiiofe  of  Mofes  or  Homer,  that  intimate  any  ^uch  lufpicion,  Hdtnrr  (peak* 
of  encnantment,  a«  (omething  that  was  well  known  and  generally  believed 
in  his  day.  But  it  was  not  the  eye,  or  a  ferpent  that  was  invefted  with 
this  df  adful  power  ;  it  was  the  voice  and  the  fongs  of  the  Syrrnj,  that 
carried  unavoidable  c«chantment  and  dcftrcflion.  But  whatever  were  the 
fcnrimenfs  of  the  ancients  re(pc6ting  this  animal,  I  think  it  can  hardly  be 
doubted  but  that  he  docs  now  difcover  a  different  faculty  or  power  from 
thofe  of  other  animals.  It  is  to  be  expefted  that  thefe  powers  (houlri  be 
moft  ftrong  and  apparent  in  thofe  countries  where  he  exifis  in  the  greatell 
cafe  and  vigor  ;  and  has  been  the  Iralf  diftuibed  by  cultivation,  or  by  man  : 
and  to  me  the  evidence  is  convincing,  that  the  'crptnt  has  difcovcrfd  fuch 
powers  in  America.  But  [  am  to  far  from  cotnprchcndtng  this  myflcri- 
ous  article  of  natural  hiOory,  that  I  mufl  refer  the  fubjeft  to  the  invelliga- 
tion  of  men  of  better  abilities  and  more  information. 

THE  rWO.HEADED  SNAKE. 
NATURALISTS  hnvc  been  in  doubt  whether  the  two-headed  fnakc 
was  a  monftrous  produftion.or  a  di'finft  fpecics  of  ferpcnts.  Thefollow- 
ing  curious  obferva'ir*!  of  Capt.  William  Baker,  fcems  to  decide  the  point. 
Mr.  Baker  is  well  known  to  the  Author,  and  there  is  no  rooin  to  doubt 
the  authenticity,  or  the  accuracy  of  his  account. 

In  AugufV  1 763,  in  the  town  of  Shcrley,  county  of  Middlefex,  and  ftatc 
of  Maffachufetts,  1  found  a  large  water  fnake,  as  I  was  mowing  in  a 
meadow,  formerly  flowed  by  beaver.  I  took  out  of  the  belly  of  the  fnakc 
iixty  young  oncj ;  they  were  about  ten  inches  long,  except  one  of  them, 
which  had  two  heads,  four  eyes,  two  tongues,  and  appeared  to  be  about 
two  inches  longer  than  any  of  the  reft.  I  fhewed  the  fnakc  with  two 
beads,  to  a  great  many  people  ;  but  as  I  was  but  a  boy,  and  at  that  time 
knew  not  that  I  could  have  preferved  it  in  fpirits,  I  did  not  attempt  keep- 
ing it,  which  I  am  very  ioiry  tor,  as  the  fight  of  him  would  prove  to  the 
ivorld,  together  with  this  account,  that  the  two  headed  fnake  is  of  a  men. 


togctt 
lUous  prodnftion. 

RuTiA.Nu,  Dec.  i6,  1795. 


W.     BAKER. 


No.     V. 


A  Differtathn  on    the    Colors  of  Men,  particularly    on  thai 
of  the  Indiani  of  America.      Chap.   VIII.  p.   237. 
Coi-ORS  OF  Ml  N. — ONE  of  the  mod  curious  phenomena  that  belongs 
fo  the  natural  hJHory  ot  man,  is.  the  cqIqt  with  which  he  it  marked.  Evtjry 

V  0 1. .  J .         N  3 


I 


'  1:,. 


>■',  V 


494 


APPENDIX. 


objcft  which  wc  behold,  appears  to  be  of  fome  particular  color.  In  anl » 
mals  ihcfc  colors  are  cx'rfmclv  various,  different,  and  beautiful  ;  and 
fonietiincs  they  appear  to  be  vaiiablc.     Man,  like  other  animali,  is  difiiii* 


ifhed  both  by 


id  by 


if  color.      In    Eurc 


he 


cuhanty, 
appears  white  :  In  .Africa,  he  is  black  :  In  America,  his  color  is*  red  :  In 
Afia,  a  variety  of  colors  arc  to  be  found  upon  the  human  countenance. 
Tliere  arc  other  fbades  and  tinfturcs  to  be  fountl  in  each  quarter  of  the 
j^lobe,  btfidcs  thofe  mentioned  above  ;  But  ihofc  that  have  been  mentioned 
arc  the  moft  general  and  prevalent  colors,  under  which  man  appears,  in 
the  four  general  divifions  of  the  globe. 

Variety  of  Colors. — The  moft  diitinguifbing,  permanent,  and 
|reneral  colors  of  the  human  fpccies,  and  which  are  at  the  greaiell  exiremes 
from  each  other,  are  black  and  white.  Between  thefe,  or  rather  as  differ- 
ent degrees  and  variations  of  them,  are  all  the  other  colors  of  the  human 
countenance  :  And  they  may  be  reduced  to  fwarthy,  red,  copper,  and 
brown.  B.'ack  is  the  color  of  the  Africans  under  the  equator  ;  of  the  in- 
habitants of  New  Guinea,  and  New  Holland.  A  fuarthy  color  includes 
the  Moojs  in  the  northern  parts  of  Africa,  and  the  Hottchiots  in  the  fouth- 
ern  parts  of  it.  ^fd  diftinguifhes  the  Indians  of  North  America,  The 
fame,  or  perhaps  more  accurately  a  copper  color  denotes  the  complexion  of 
the  Indians  of  Afia.  Brown  comprehends  the  Tartars,  Petfians,  Arabs, 
Afiicans  on  the  coaft  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  Chinefe.  The  inhabi- 
tants r.f  the  iOands  in  the  Pccific  Ocean,  are  alfo  chiefly  of  this  color. 
Under  this  color  is  compiehended  all  thofe  different  (hades,  whict)  are  de- 
noted by  olive,  chelnut,  and  deep  yellow.  \  lefs  dark  color,  or  biotLnipi^ 
will  bed  cxprrfs  the  complexion  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  fouthcrn  partsof 
Europe:  the  Sicilians,  Abyffinians,  Spaniards,  Tuiks,  and  alfo  the 
Samoifdes,  and  Laplander?.  While  is  the  color  of  moft  of  the  European 
nations ;  as  Swedes,  Ruflians,  Danes,  EngUlb,  Germans,  Poles.  &c.  Ka« 
bardiniki,  and  Georgians.  It  is  obfervable  that  all  thefe  colors  are  inclu- 
ded between  the  two  exttemes  J  or  rather  ihcy  are  different  degrees  ot 
variations  of  bicck  and  white. 

Chance  or  Color. — A  change  of  color  is  always  produced  by  the 
marriage  or  mixture  of  pcrfons  of  different  complexions.  Thus  the  off- 
fpring  of  the  European  and  the  nc^ro,  is  of  a  yellow  complexion  ,•  lefs 
white  than  the  European,  and  lefs  black,  than  the  negro  ;  or  rather  of  a 
datk  cream  color.  This  race  are  numerous  in  fome  parts  of  America,  and 
are  called  Muluttoes.  The  offspring  of  an  European  and  an  Indian  is  alfo 
of  a  cream  color  ;  and  more  light  than  the  mulatto.  Thefe  are  called  a- 
mong  the  Spaniards  Mefligos.  The  e ffcft  and  operation  of  this  change  of 
the  original  colors,  in  the  climate  of  America,  is  always  in  favor  of  the 
fairer  complexion  ;  and  never  approaches  towards,  or  ends  in  the  darker 
color.  This  change  and  alteration  of  color,  when  it  is  left  to  its  natural 
tendency  and  cffcft,  is  extremely  flow  and  moderate  in  its  operation  ; 
and  it  is  not  until  after  many  years,  that  the  full  effedl  is  produced.  In 
theSpanifti  fettlements,  this  mixed  race  has  fo  muitiplied  as  to  form  a 
confiderable  part  of  the  iiihabitants :  And  the  feveral  Uages  of  variation  in 
this  race,  v.'ith  the  gradi:al  alteration  of  (bade  until  it  r.^ds  in  the  European 
complexion,  have  bten  well  afcertaincd,  and  arc  now  perfeftly  well  undcr- 
flood.  Thofe  of  the  (irft  generation  are  confidercd  and  treated  as  negroes 
or  Indians.  In  th>  third  generation  the  Indian  color  difappears.  It  is 
not  until  tl'C  fifth  defcent  lh.U  the  deeper  black  of  the  negro  is  loft.  At 
the  end  of  thefe  different  periods,  the  offipring  can  no  longer  be  diftin- 
2ui(hed  from  the  European  ;  but  is  confsdercd  as  (uch,  and  cu;iilcd  to  '■tkX- 


APPENDIX. 


49S 


ilieir  privileges,* — Tn  this  change  of  color,  produced  by  Ihe  mod  power- 
ful of  all  natural  caufcs,  ihe  mixture  of  perfons  oi  diffcrt;nt  complexions  ;. 
fo  gradual  and  fl  iw  is  the  operation,  that  the  black  muU  be  lubjeft  to  five 
divilions,  and  the  opera' ion  mu^t  be  continued  through  five  generjiions, 
bclorc  the  color  is  completely  changed. 

Seat  of  Color — That  the  different  colors  of  the  human  fpccie* 
arc  lea'.cd  in  the  fkin  is  very  l^parcnt.  Tlie  fkin  confirts  ©f  three  folds  or 
coverins;s.  The  Hrlf  is  a  very  line  and  tranlparent  integument,  and  is  white 
in  people  of  all  colors  The  fecond  is  a  cellular  membrane,  differently 
colored  in  different  perfons.  The  thiid  i.s  alio  white.  It  is  in  the  iecond 
of  ihele,  that  the  color  is  fcated.  In  black  people,  a  very  able  anatomilH- 
obferves  that  the  fkin  is  much  tliicker  and  larger,  than  in  white  oo'S  ;  the 
cellular  mpmbiaiu;  in  (he  latter  being  a  thin  mucus,  but  in  the  former  a 
thick  membrane  In  whites  this  feat  of  the  color  is  tranfparent,  and  ci- 
ther totally  deprived  of  vt  fTcls,  or  only  furnifhed  with  a  very  few  ;  as  the 
yellow  color  app-aring  in  jaundice,  vanifhcs  on  the  caufe  ol  the  difrafe  br- 
inp,  removed,  which  is  not  thccale  with  ftaiiis  from  gunpowder,  or  fimiiar 
caulci.  —  Hence,  he  obferves,  three  caufi-s  may  be  very  readily  aHigned, 
which  will  opera'c  to  deflr  >y  the  pelucidiiy  of  the  fkin,  and  give  it  a 
brown  color,  and  render  it  thicker.  Thefc  are  the  heat  of  the  fun,  the 
accefs  of  air.  and  nallinefs.  And  in  general  any  thing  that  operates  to  pro- 
duce or  to  deUroy  the  peiucidity  of  the  fkin,  will  tend  to  vary  aad  change 
the  color  ol  the  human  body. 

CoioR  coNNECTiD  WITH  Climate. — Amoog  thc  caufcs  which 
may  art'etf  t!)e  color  of  the  human  body,  it  has  been  generally  (uppofcd 
that  the  influence  of  heat  or  climate,  has  a  confidcrable  efTedl.  Concern- 
ing this  inllieiice  or  corir,cxion  between  color  and  climate,  the  following 
oblervations  mav  be  made 

1,  Different  colors  are  befl  fuifed  to  difFcrent  climates.  In  all  the" 
plants  rod  animals  v.hich  are  Ipread  over  the  f;icc  of  the  earth,  there  is 
jomrtriing  by  whirli  tlicy  are  pecuii.irly  htledto  the  climate  and  country, 
in  which  they  arc  ojccd.  One  kind  of  vegetable  rt  quires  a  great  degree 
of  heat  :  Anotiier  fl)uii flics  the  befl  in  a  teiriperateand  cold  country.  It 
is  the  fame  with  animals.  Some  are  fitted  for  thc  heat  of  the  torrid  zone. 
(7  hers  rrqaite  tlie  fcvere  coM  of  the  frigid  zone,  to  give  them  their 
grraielt  peifcction.  To  e11  thefe  animals,  nature  has  given  the  proper 
clolhiofj;  which  admits  of  no  other  variation  than  what  the  feafons  of  the 
yraj^quire.  —  Man  is  an  animal  made  for  every  climate  :  Inflead  of  be- 
ing formed  for  the  torrid  or  frigid  zone,  he  can  live,  multiply,  and  ar- 
rive to  his  proper  perfeilion,  in  any  climate  :  And  it  is  left  to  his  own 
rea!on  and  induflry  to  piovide  himlelf  with  fuch  clothing,  as  his  condition 
may  require,  in  every  climate  through  which  he  may  pafs;  or  in  which 
lie  may  f*)j')ujn.  And  yet  there  is  fjmething  in  different  mm,  which 
tjualiliss  ^nd  fits  them  for  one  climate,  better  than  for  another ;  and  that  i-s 
color, —  Ihe  man  v/hofc  color  is  black,  is  better  fuitcd  to  the  exirrme 
lieat  of  the  hottefl  climate,  than  any  other  of  the  human  race.  This 
)ias  been  long  known  and  oblervcd  in  the  clin-.a'es  of  ."America.-  Thc  ne- 
groes of  the  Well  India  ifl.n.-ij,  in  the  Spanilh  dominions,  and  in  the  ftatrj 
of  Georgia,  and  South  Carolina,  are  found  to  bear  the  extreme  he;it  of  the 
fummer,  belter  than  the  white  people.  On, the  contrary,  the  nefiroci  it\ 
»hc  northern  (ia'zi  of  America  are  more  tender  than  thc  white  people,  Icfs- 


*  Voyage  de  Ulloa,  I,  a;, 
+'Doftor  Hunter. 


Robenfon's  Kift.  Anicr.  II.  369. 


■/ 


;i!' 


t 


i    t 


'   i!  I 


,;:: 


I'    11 

'i  4 


.;;' 


■I  l 


1  i "       >l 


496 


APPENDIX. 


able  to  bear  the  fcverify  of  our  winters,  and  more  apt  to  complain,  frflFry, 
and  freeze  with  the  cold— The  whiic  men  .iie  the  rtverfc  ot  this  They 
bear  the  fevcrc  winters  ot  Canada,  and  Rulfi.i.  without  much  difficulty  or 
l)ilFering  :  But  in  a  hot  climate  they  become  ("ickly,  and  fail  (xoner  thai* 
the  negroes.  Several  colonics  of  white  peopic  have  lublilled  in  the  tor- 
rid none  in  A.perica,  more  th.in  two  centuri>-»:  AnH  ytt  they  lannot  bear 
the  heat,  like  thcori({inal  inhabitants,  or  liiie  the  negroes.  The  one  \» 
apparently  bell  (uited  to  a  cold,  and  the  other  to  a  bor  climate.  And 
thcic  differences  are  as  apparently  owin(<  to  (heir  color,  for  they  do  not 
appear  to  be  connrficd  with  ;inv  oihrr  caule,  or  circumllance.  Different 
colons  thcrctore  in  the  human  Ipccics,  are  certainly  bell  adapted,  luted 
andfui'ed,  to  difl*r;;nt  climates. 

2.  There  is  a  tendency  in  climateto    produce   the  color   which   it   re- 
quires.     Animal  heat  is  derived  but  Ijitlc  Irom  the  Inn,   or   from    the    at- 
molplicrc;   but  chiefly  and  mainly  from  original   conlliiutioii.       The   liC' 
l)gn  of  covering  and  clothing,  is  to  detain  and  pieicrve  the  ticat  of  the  an- 
imal body,  in  its  natural  fituaiion,  d.cgree  a>  i  quantity;  and  to  pnvent  an 
extreme  waftc  or  dilperlion  of  it.     Black  readily  receives  and  absorbs  the 
beat  of  the  animal  body  ;  and  in  this  way  tends  to  cxhaud  and  r^ilperle  it. 
White  reflects  and  repels  the  rays  of  light  and   htat  more  than   any  o'her 
color,  and  thus  prevents  and  oppcfes  their  palTdge  ;  and  in  this  way,  tends 
to  prelerrc  and  detain  the  conflitu'ional  heat  ot  liie  animal  body.       Hence 
the  covering,  which  nature  has  airj;j;ned  to  the  earth    in  cold    climaios,    is 
fnow  :   By  its  color  it  becomes  bcft  of  all  adapted    to    prevent   tnc    heat 
from  flowing  out  of  the  earth  into  the  ainjofphcre.     And  hence  the  cover- 
ing of  mofl  ai>'irnals  in  thcfeverell  fcafon,  and  country,  is  generallv  white; 
the  color  which  moll  of  all  prclerves  the  heat   of   the   animal    body,    and 
prevents  its  flowing  out.      In  conformity  to  the  lame  law  ol  namre,  inaiiy 
animals   chd' ge  their  ctth^r  at  the   approach    of  winl;r;   and  froni  black, 
brown  or  grey,  become  white.    This  us  the    cafe    witti    the  ralihits,   loxcs, 
bears, &c.  at  Hudfon's  bay,  Rullia,  and  Siberia.      From  tnc  darker  colors 
■which  thiy  bear  in  lummerj  they  tum  white  at  the  approach  ol    wiriter  ; 
and  remain  fo,  until  the  i/turn  1 1  Ipring,     In  Inch  Cdles,  climate  apicL-is  to 
have  a  powerful  and  a  fodder,  operation,  to  produce  the  colors  it  requires. 
The  change  of  color  in  man,  is  more  llow  and  gradual  ;   It  is    however 
certain  and  apparent.     The  white  men  who  arc  iiuch  cxpof'-d  to  the    heat 
and  raysof  the  fun,  and  to  the  influence  of  the  wind,   in    hot   fcaloos   lofe 
tlicir  whitenufs,  and  become  brown  or  red.     The    iohabitauts  of   Europe 
v/lieo  thty  fettle  in  New  Spain  or  in  the  Weft  India  lilands, 'oon  loolc  their 
vrhitenels,  and  become  of  a  browiiifh  vcllow.      The    Europeans  who    re- 
fide  lone  in  the  Keaft  Indies,  become  ot  ihc  fame  creatn   colored  C'lnplcx- 
ion.     We  have  an  arcuiatc  account  of  the  elTrft  produced    by   clinjatc    in 
South  America, by  Dr.  Mitchell ;     "  The  Spaniards    who  have    inhabited 
.America  under  i«he  torrid  zone  lor  any  conlidei able  time,  are   become   as 
dark  colored  as  our  native  Indians  of  Virginia,  of   which    I    mv'eif  have 
b<en  a  wiinefs."*     An  account  from  Alrica,  is  equally  authentic   and   ac- 
curate. "  There  are  feveial  other  fmall  Poitugucle  fettlcments,  and   oiic  of 
f.ome  note  at  Miiomba,  a  river  in  Sierra  Leone.       The   people    here  called 
Portuguefc,  are  principally  perfons  bred  Irom  a  mixture   ot  the  fitll  Por- 
tugucle  difcoverers  with  the  natives,  and  now  become,   in   their  coniplex- 
ion,  and  wooliy  quality  of  their  hair,  perff£l  ncgroi.^,   retaining   h»>w<  ver, 
a  imattcring  of  the  Porluguefc  ]anguage,"f     Here  the  operation  of  mix- 

»  Phil.  Tranf.  No.  476, 

-.'-  Account  of  the  trade  of  G.BiUain  to  Africa,  by  an  African  Merchait 


U    I 


APPENDIX. 


4rvr 


tare  by  tuarriage,  is  dctrrmincd  by  climate  in  favor  of  the  African  color* 
There  ari- fimilar  accounts  of  the  complexion  of  the  Poiiutjueie,  who  iet- 
lled  at  Sen'.-gdl  ia  i  joo  j  and  of  thoic  who  arc  lettled  on  the  coad  of  Con- 

i;o.  The  varying  c,;m|jlixion  of  the  Jews  is  alio  very  remarkable.  De- 
cendcd  from  one  liock.  iheir  icliRion  has  prevented  their  marrying  witli 
other  people.  In  Britain  and  Grrinaiiv,  tiiey  arc  white.  In  France  and. 
Turkey,  they  are  biown.  In  Spiin  and  Portugal,  their  color  is  Iwartliy*. 
In  S\ria  Hnd  Chaldca,  the  olive  color  prevails.  In  Arabia  and  tgvpt, 
they  ate  ot  a  tiwuv  or  co;)pcr  color  *  Among  every  nation  they  iccm  to 
partakv- of  the  color  of  tht- climaic.  And  one  of  them,  Todela,  iclatcs 
that  his  countrymen  ia  AbyOinia,  have  acquired  the  daik  complexion  of 
the  original  naiivcs. 

It  is  obf^erv.ihle  that  all  thefe  changes,  arc  from  a  light  to  a  more  dark 
comp'cxion  Similar  Lhanj;ps  have  not  been  oblervcd  in  the  negtofs,  ihat 
have  ht en  brought  into  the  temperate  climates  of  America  It  Ibould 
feem  therefore  that  the  tianfition  is  eafier  from  white  to  black,  thaii  h  ttn 
black  tr)  whitr  ;  or 'hat  the  negro  color  is  the  mnll  deeplv  imprclf  'i  of 
an\  ;  or  that  h  -at  has  a  much  iriorc  luvtden  and  pjwrrlul  tffVft  than  cold- 
It  oujiht  however  lo  be  ohfervcd  that  it  is  only  in  white  and  lair  complcic- 
inn.-|  (liar  ihc'e  rliai);;es  of  color  WD'.ild  foun  become  viiible  or<. ;;;  arpii^  to 
common  obferva  ion  In  a  f)<irk  or  black  countenance,  fmil!  ami  ^^ladial 
vanaiiins  ot  llutie  would  not  b^  oh'^ervcd.  I  would  not  '^c  Miitil  m-  ne- 
gro had  i)  I  inuc!i  of  his  i  iitn^.-  colui.  th<'t  the  ciiani>c  wrulu  be  cencially 
no  'C  d.  Bur  I  m'lch  lu  peft  tha'  tuerc  is  fomct!iin^  more  curious  in  this 
fub)ctt  thai  has  bf-in  imigincd  :  ("hat  lom-.'  of  the  colors  of  the  hiimart 
coiinfciiaiice,  at  mi  ihtir  own  naiur/,  coor*  which  aie  lefs  chanj^cable 
than  <i;riers.  It  Im  ms  to  b-  univcfally  the  cafe,  that  t'  e  bl.iik  ptoduced 
bv  (cofjhiniT,  Of  h  •  d.\  i.iienfe  heat,  isthe  moll  durdble  of  any  c.iloi  wlnt- 
tver :  And  that  Aiiuc  is  more  f.T'O  and  r;<rilv  lullied,  and  chdnged,  tnaa 
jnv  of  ihc  o'lKi  colors,  with  which  any  objitl  is  rnaiked. 

v  I  '  ''■•n-  10  be  a  confii  ma  ion  of  liiefe  remarks,  that  the  colors  of  men 
ui  '..ii-rcnc'i  nates,  arc  in  Ijfl  Tuch,  as  ihofe  climates  (ctm  to  nq  i;re. 
I  ■  ujr  the  cqua  or  the  da  kcit  (hade,  pcriett  black  tikes  pKice  Ine  n!-- 
pio  ot  \frica  is  p  accd  in  the  molt  iniciilc  heat,  that  rakes  place  on  this 
globe  ;  and  the  color  of  the  negro  is  the  decp.lt  and  datked  black,  that 
any  where  appears  o;i  the  liitmau  countenincc.  .-\dvaMi;iiif;  from  the  rqua- 
tor  towards  (he  pole,  the  coloi' of  thi  humaii !_  ccies  acquites  a  complexion 
more  at  d  m)re  lij^ht  ;  until  having  pair.;d  through  all  the  intermediate 
grad.itions  ot  (had",  it  fcrmuiaies  in  the  whitenels  of  a  temperate  and  cold 
cliiTMte.  There  are  indeed  variations  ar.d  exceptions  from  this,  and  tioiu 
every  other  ^enerai  law  of  nature.  Intermixtures  of  ditietent  nations,  mi- 
gration, differences  in  tood,dilcafc,cleanliners,  health  and  many  other  local 
citcumlfances  and  caufcs,  will  produce  tnefe.  As  fuch  variations  are  not  a- 
grteable  to  any  general  law  ot  nature,  they  are  neither  evidences  of,  or  ob- 
jefttons  to  (uch  laws;  but  derive  their  origin  frotn  local  and  particular 
caufes. — But  it  is  impoflible  not  to  difcern  the  general  regulatity,  tendrn- 
cy,  and  effc'ft  of  the  laws  of  nature,  lelpefting  climate  and  color.  The 
molt  intenfc  black,  is  the  general  color  of  man  in  the  hoittft  part  of  thq 
globe.  Where  the  heat  is  confiderably  abatod,  the  black  abates  too,  and 
the  color  becomes  fwarthy.  Tothis  fuccceds  tlie  red  or  copper  color  of. 
the  call  and  well  Indians  ;  fuitcd  to  titat  part  of  .'^fia,  where  the  Indians 
bive  been  long  lixed  and   permanently   fettled.      Tiie  next  g'adation    is, 

*  BufTon  Nat.  Ilift.  Vol,  III. 


"I 


498 


APPENDIX. 


1 1. 


4  !.  1:   'J 


;  M 

Mi 

II 


i^  I 


j 


4  ;^ 


i 


1*     9' 


brown,  comprtJiendlng  the  olive,  antl  daik  yHIow*  A  lij^Titrr  ni.idc,  cr 
a  b")w  a;jpi -ic'iin^  ricarrr  to  wliite,  diltioguiflictli  a  ciiinatc  flill  more 
tcnpf.ta  r.  The  whole  tcrmiottrcs  in  the  coldncfj,  a'ld  in  tiie  wlii'.er.tls 
Cil  lit"  harop'.in  .ind  nortliern  niiMons  ;  bfyond  wliicti  nature  has  n<n  pro. 
cccd'd.  And  whcrp  a  country  is  ot  threat  cxicnt,  as  India,  and  China,  tlie 
rol'T  of  thf  fjnic  nt^O|jle  is  dark  id  the  liinihcrn,  and  more  iair  in  the 
iiordjcrti  par(s,  VV'na'cvr  partici'iu  I'xci'pMons  and  <>."viations  may  lie 
lounil,  the  j,;!"!-;'  rai  law  ot  n.iiurc  rrlprf,\iu/^  color,  is  mark-'d  wiiii  as  mucK' 
rcfjuUriv/,  ir)i!ormitv.  dcO^n,  and  ouirr,  as  any  ether  law  oi  natuic,  whicl. 
applies  to  the  vegetable  or  animal  wor'd. 

4  Tnis  opTition  and  ell  £i  of  climate  mud  be  extrcmclv  fjraJu.il  and 
flow.  \Vh;i;rvrr  tfiofe  csnI'S  are  '.v!iich  luwe  Icrvrd  to  t^rfn  and  tix  th  ; 
Colors  ol  men,  they  are  cTi'es  wnich  hi\ve,  been  in  operation,  from  ihc  bc- 
|-;inning  of  die  creation  of  God.  It  there  were  any  dillV'renccs  in  the  iiatn» 
lal  conlliiuiions  of  men,  Co  as  to  form  what  has  been  called  different  races, 
Chole  difVcrenccs  muff  have  been  original  ;  and  thrreloreas  ancient  as  thofc 
Jiippofed  races  of  men.  IfthcelFtl  has  been  produced  by  climate,  this 
caul.'  muff  have  been  opcra'.ing  upon  nations,  ever  (ince  their  refidencc  be- 
came fixed  in  any  particular  part  of  ih?  earth.  The  fame  remark  will  op- 
ply  to  anv  other  luppolcd  r.aufe.  Be  it  what  it  may,  upon  every  nation 
wh.'le  relidcncc  has  been  fixed,  it  mull  hai-e  been  operating  ever  Gncc  their 
Ctuation  became  cilablifbrfl.  With  regard  tlien  to  ail  thole  nations  which 
have  lon^t;  rtfided  in  the  l,;mc  part  of  thn  globe,  their  colo-^a  muff  be  view- 
ed as  the  eficcl  of  canfcj,  which  have  been  in  operation  cither  fiom  the  be- 
ginning ol  the  creation,  or  from  the  time  when  they  began  to  rcfide  in 
iJieir  prcif  nt  fuuations,  or  countries.  What  then  oui?jit  to  be  txpefler!,  if 
any  race  ot  men  whofc  color  was  already  formed,  fhould  be  removed  to  a 
country,  whrvc  the  tendency  ot  ciimaie  was  to  leverfe  the  former  ctf  fts, 
andch:»ngc  the  color  which  had  been  long  lixcd  ?— Could  it  bcrxpctfed 
that  the  powe*  ot  climate  to  change  a  color  lonj;  formed  and  fixed,  could 
be  <  xeru'd  in  lefs  time  than  it  had  required  to  produce  and  to  eUabiifb  it  ? 
Would  it  require  lefs  time  to  remove  an  ellablilbed  colo,  and  to  produce 
s  new  one,  tlian  it  did  to  pr.uluce  and  fix  the  firil  ?  So  far  as  we  can  de- 
rive any  information  from  the  ordinary  courfe  of  nature,  we  cannot  con* 
ceive  tfiai  the  color  of  the  nt-jjro,  could  be  changed  into  that  of  tHe  whie 
man,  in  a  lets  period  of  time,  than  it  had  taken,  to  produce  and  eftabiiib. 
that  color  at  firlf.  It  is  tnuch  morr  probable,  that  a  longer  period  oi  time 
Mould  he  recfflary  to  eradicate  the  (iil>,  and  produce  the  fecond,  than  was 
reqiiifite  to  foim  the  complexion  at  firff.  Thoie  then  that  mean  to  inquire 
caiefully  i  ito  the  oj  eiations  and  efr-j.T'ts  of  nature,  muff  put  on  the  patience 
of  th>-  aniii;uari,ni.  and  learn  to  c omutite  'ime  wiih  the  allronomers.  The 
impatience  of  many  leads  them  'o  expert  thnt  climate  fhould  undo  that  in 
three  or  four  generations,  vviu.:h  natuic  has  been  cnnilari'ly  at  v/jrk  to  ef- 
fcft,  from  her  firft  oiigin  nn;il  now. 

1  will  venture  to  propofe  a  conjeftnral  eflimatinn,  not  becaufe  I  think  ir 
aoproachcs  very  near  to  ceri-'inty  or  dtcifion,  but  becaufe  I  cannot  fiiia 
any  thing  apon  the  fubicdt,  t:nt  has  a  greater  appearance  of  probability. 
The  moll  powerful  of  all  ihecanles,  wh'.ch  have  hcci\  found  to  change  the 
complexion  of  man,  is  that  of  mixture  bv  niarria.p,e.  In  the  negro  color, 
this  requites  five  generations,  and  five  divilions,  before  the  Atiican  bidck- 
-inels  i-i  lol\  in  the  European  whllencfs  :  In  the  lefs  dark  complexion  ot  the 
Indian,  it  requires  three  grneratinns.  and  thiee  divifions,  to  produce  the 
fame  efFeft.  The  time  of  one  of  thefe  generations  may  be  cllimated  ata- 
bout  twenty  five  years.  The  tim'^  then  wliich  nature  requires  to  eft^'ft  the 
e^.aogc  oi  color  from  this  caulc,  would  bs  one  liundrert  and  twenty  i\' 


APPENDIX. 


-i!)9 


htrr  (H.ide,  r.r 
ate  Hill  more 
ihc  whi'.eiitlj 
re  has  nfit.  pro- 
>nd  Chun,  tlic 
e  iair  in  llic 
itions  may  be 
1  wiiii  as  mijch' 
if  naiufc,  whicl. 

trlv  graJu.ll  .iii'l 
■tin  anii  tix  fh; 
n,  from  ihe  bc- 
iccs  in  the  nitii- 
I  different  races, 
ancient  as  tho!e 
oy  climate,  this 
sir  refjdciice  be- 
remsrk  will  ap- 
)n   every  nation 
[Tcver  fmcc  ihcir 
Je  nations  which 
■  n  miiQ  be  vicw- 
hcr  finm  the  be- 
gan  to  rcndc  in 
o  be  (-xpcfler!,  if 
he  removed  to  a 
»e  former  elf.  fts, 
Id  it  be  rxpctli'd 
and  fixed,  could 
dtoeUabiifh  i'.  ? 
,  and  to  produce 
far  as  we  can  dt- 
,  we  cannot  (on* 
that  of  the  whi'c 
uce  and  eftabliil". 
er  period  o!  timt 
iecoud,  than  was 
mean  to  inquire 
it.  on  the  patience 
Iroiiomcrs.     Tnc 
.aid  undo  thai  in 
ly  at  v;'jrk  to  cf- 

jecaufe  1  think  \[ 

i(e  1   cannot  fniCi 

e  of   probabilllV. 

nd  to  change  the 

lie  iis'sff'  <^;''^;'' 

Atiican  black- 
omplexion  of  tbe 
5,  to  produce  the 
beclVimatcd  ata- 
uires  to  efffft  ^'■•' 
and  twsi«y  ^v 


h 


yeirs,  for  the  negrf.  A.  tlilrtv  f-rond  pirt  of  thi?  wltolc  cnlor,  upon ';Mi 
luppofiiiori  is  done  away  by  (oirie  o'lit-r  caule,  fay  tliat  ot  clinutc.  If  rhr; 
whole  effcft  had  be'ii  produced  by  climate,  and  in  this  proporiirm,  the 
lime  necf  (Tary  to  have  cumpictcd  thecfief.t  would  hjvcbceii  tint  (liou  ?i',J 
)ears.  By  the  lame  method  of  coijidlurdl  ellimation,  ihc  time  nrct  1  Jar/ 
lo  reduce  the  Indian  to  the  Eur  pean  color,  would  be  fix  liundi-d  >  Mt',, 
'I  he  difHculty  and  uncertainly  attcndin;;  this  rneihod  uf  foimmfjaii  tlii- 
maie,  is  not  thai  it  can  give''  period  of  time  Uio  lon«,  bui  that  it  jI- 
fumcs  what  cannot  beafcc. .-  icd  by  nbdrvation.  It  is  not,  and  proinbly 
«nnot  !>;:  inade  ccriaiii  by  ol)(crv3tinti,  tha'  a  thirty  (rcoiid  part  ot  ;lic  ne- 
fio  color  is  done  awiy  by  ciiniitf,  or  uiat  u   is   done  aw^iy  ;ii    ul' 


the  ncTro  coino'fxioa 


IS  li 


PP 


led  to   be  completely    ch 


It   ij 


not 


probable  that  if  a  ihiily  Iecoud  part  of  ?%c  daik  color  leinained,  u  (ould 
be  ri-adilv  dilfinguilhcd  bv  tlie  eye.  fiut  uncertain  as  ih:r  dau  arc,  they 
are  liilfirient  to  (how  that  thr  optraiif>ii  of  cliiruLe,  in  any  view  in  wliicli 
the  mittercan  t)C  confidcred,  i$extrc;t)c!y  (gradual  and  How. 

5.  This  influence  of  climate,  whaitvcr  it  is,  may  be  increafcd  or  it  may 
be  rc'ardcd,  tiy  the  operation  of  other  caufes.  'I'iie  color  of  ilie  lis  i:i  m.iy 
be  aff'Cted  and  c'lan.iTfd  by  other  caules,  as  well  as  by  heat  and  ct.ld.  If 
there  be  any  thini;  in  the  common  method  of  livinj.',  in  bein^i  coiillantly 
expofcd  to  the  lun  and  wind,  in  the  uie  of  paint  and  (jil,  or  in  li.ibiuial 
cleaiilinefs  or  filthiric/s,  that  tends  to  darken,  or  to  render  the  complexion 
more  lair;  ihis,  may  operate  cither  with  or  againlf  the  inllnet'cc  of  cli- 
n)atc,  accordin;^  as  the  nature  and  tendency  of  lu.  Ii  ciiftom  or  pr*tlicc  may 
be.  And  we  oui^ht  not  toafcribe  that  lo,  c  make  that  any  objcQion  trj 
the  influence  of  climate,  whicii  may  Le  derived  from  other  caufts.  Thus 
in  Greenland,  the  inllacnccof  climate  is  in  favor  of  a  fair  and  white  com- 
plexion;  but  in  the  conflant  application  of  grcafe,  oil,  and  fikliinrrs,  to 
the  human  body,  there  is  another  and  a  more  powerful  caufe  to  iiT.i.i  its 
color,  than  climate  ;  and  which,  ading  in  conllant  nppofiiion  to  it,  gives 
to  the  countenance  a  lallow  cr  diity  olive  complexion.  Such  canfes  may 
aft  with  a  foice  and  power,  equal  or  fupeiior  to  that  of  climate  ;  l;ut  they 
are  not  equally  permanent,  univcrfal,  or  invariable.  There  is  no  error 
more  common,  or  more  apt  to  deceive  us  in  contemplatinii;  the  natural 
hiilory  of  m.ui,  than  to  afciibe  that  to  one  caaCe,  which  is  derived  from  or 
iSrodtiCfdby  the  j  lint  operation  of  many.  Whatever  tends  to  reiiJcr  il'.e 
fkin  more  or  leis  tranfpjrtfiit,  will  afiVcl  the  color  of  the  human  fprcics,  aj 
certainly  as  the  clima'.e  in  which  ihcy  arc  placi;d. 

Color  ano  Ciimate  of  the  Indians  of  A:.:t.ric.\, — There  is 
no  fubjcft  in  philofophy  fo  well  un'icilfood,  but  that  a  number  of  quel", 
tions  and  inquiiics  may  be  piopoied  rcrpe£ling  it,  which  do  not  admit  of 
a  fatisldftory  or  complete  ani'wer.  And  this  will  always  remain  to  be  the 
cjfe,  becaufc  our  knowIcd}>e  of  nature  will  never  be  equal  or  commenlu- 
ra'e  to  the  (ubjetl.  But  tiicre  is  one  inquiry  arifing  here,  which  demands 
our  careful  attention  :  How  does  the  climate  and  the  color  of  the  Indians 
of  Amci  ica  agree  with  this,  or  with  ;.ny  other  fuppofed  law  of  climate  f 
The  Indian^  were  fpread  over  the  whole  continent  of  America  :  They 
dwelt  in  every  habitable  climate  from  the  equator  to  the  pole  :  And  they 
were  of  the  fame  color  in  every  place.  In  the  fjrealcft  heat  under  the  equa- 
tor, and  in  the  fevgrefl  climates  of  Canada  and  Hudfon'sbay,  they  were  of 
the  fame  brownifh  icd.*     This  appears  to  be  the  proper  Indian  color  iu 

*  It  has  been  cuttomary  to  write  in  this  language,  but  we  are  far 
from  being  certain  that  it  is  cither  accurate,  or  proper.  It  has  been  taken 
f-T  grimed,  but  it  has  never  been  examined,  whether  the  Indian  color  is' 


(y 


I      >l 


I 


r^: 


)i 


'  '1 
^1 


i'^'! 


1,  • 


i  •• 


r 


500 


APPENDIX, 


ever  y  part  and  climate  of  America.  Arc  the  climates  of  America  dil^crcn' 
from  ihofcot  the  other  continent  ?  Or  whence  ii  it  that  tlic  coiiiiexior« 
whiiih  takes  phce  between  clmjiics  and  color  in  ilic  other  paita  ol  ihc 
globe,  is  not  to  !)c  tound  amonij  the  Indians  ?  This  curious  pticnoincnon 
lias  ticcafmncd  much  inquiry  and  fpccuIa:ion  :  Can  the  ca  I'cs  of  it  be  lound, 
in  the  obfcrvaiions  which  have  been  already  meniioned  f 

t.  The  Indian  color  is  very  evidently  the  mixture  ol  black  and  red.  The 
color,  which  an  imenic  heat  procuces,  upon  all  bodies  to  which  ii  is  ap- 
plied .  is  tlati  :  And  it  is  as  naunal  to  cxpeft  it  (houUi  have  thisefTi-tl  upon 
the  human  body,  at  upon  any  other  bodies.  The  color  which  is  |  rodiicid 
upon  the  human  body,  by  living  much  in  the  open  air,  expoled  i"  ihf  in- 
fluenci;  ot  the  lun  and  winri,  is  r^d.  The  white  men  who  live  ir  .ucha 
fiiuanon,  always  contrail  this  color.  That  pait  ol  their  hi  dies.,  w  ir h  is 
ex  poled  to  the  influence  o'  the  fun  and  wind,  becomes  of  a  rciid.lh  fi!or ; 
or  as  it  is  commonly  expultul,  they  Ixcomr  tanned,  oi  Inn  l.utni  ;  i^a  is, 
thcv  ac  quire  a  color  formed  by  a  mixture  ol  red  and  white.  This  influ.  ncc 
of  the  winil  and  fun,  in  producinf;  the  red  complexion,  is  found  lobe 
much  the  fame  in  lummer  and  winter  :  The  white  man  is  nearly  as  much 
and  as  foon  tanned,  in  the  winter  as  in  the  fummer.  It  fecms  thetetore 
that  the  jproduftion  of  this  red  color,  does  not  depend  upon  climate,  heat, 
or  cold,  but  upon  h^lil ;  the  habit  of  living  in  the  open  air,  and  having 
thi-  bodv  expofcd  to  the  conffant  influence  of  the  fun  and  wind.  The  In- 
dian color  then  feems  to  have  been  (ormcdby  the  mixture  of  two  different 
colors,  black  and  red  ;  and  to  have  been  derived  trom  two  powerful  cauf- 
C8,  climate  and  ha/>it :  Caulrs  diftinft  from  one  another,  and  the  latter  pro- 
ducing nearly  the  lame  effeft  in  every  climate. 

2.  This  color  of  the  Indians  was  probably  completely  formed,  when 
they  firfh  came  into  America.  They  were  of  the  fame  color  as  the  Indians, 
and  louthern  lartors  in  Afia;  and  appear  to  have  been  defcendcd  from 
them.  Their  color  theicforc  was  completely  formed  and  fixed,  before 
they  came  into  America.  This  color  fecms  to  have  been  derived  from  the 
warm  climate  of  Mfia  ;  and  from  the  habit  of  living  conflantly  expoled  to 
the  lun,  and  to  the  open  air.  The  color  thus  formed  and  fixed,  they  would 
naturally  convey  to  their  offspring.  And  as  there  were  no  other  people 
•with  whom  they  could  have  any  inteicourfe,  there  could  be  no  change  or 
alteration  of  color,  produced  by  a  mixture  of  parents  of  dilicrent  complex- 
ions. Their  color  therefore  muft  have  been  fettled,  and  uniform  :  And 
the  whole  cfFcft  of  population  muft  have  been  to  fpread,  propagate,  and 
prcfcrve  it.  The  clfcft  of  climate  then  upon  the  Indian  in  Amr'.ua,  would 
not  be  to  produce  and  form  his  color ;  but  cither  to  prcfcrve,  or  to  change  it. 

the  fame  in  every  part  of  America.  An  accurate  and  inquifitive  obfcrvcr, 
IvI.  de  le  Pinto,  who  coinmandid  for  feveral  years  at  MaiagrofTa,  a  Portu- 
s:;u(fc  fcttlcment  in  the  interior  parts  of  Brazil,  where  the  Indians  are  nume- 
fous,  and  not  alteietl  by  their  intcrcourfc  with  the  Europeans,  noted  a  dif- 
ference in  their  complexions  :  «'  They  are  all  of  a  copper  color,  with  fomc 
diverfity  of  fhade,  not  in  proportion  to  their  diftance  from  the  equator, 
hnt  according  to  the  degree  of  elevation  of  the  territory  which  they  inhabit. 
rhcs  who  live  in  a  high  country  arc  fairer  than  thofe  in  the  marlhv,  low 
lands  on  the  coafl."— Robertfon'sHiff.  Amcr.  I.  460.  On  the  norihwell 
part  of  the  American  continent,  it  has  been  found,  that  **  the  complexion 
of  the  Indians  is  lip, liter  than  that  of  the  fouthern  Indians,  and  fomeof 
their  women  have  oly  checks." — Morfc's  Geog.  I.  99.  105.  Edit.  1793. 
Of  the  Indians  of  lara^uay  we  have  this  account  :  "  Ihey  are  generally  of 
an  clivc  compUxion.  lome  darker,  othcri  iighterj and  fomc  as  wl.i;<  «' 
toe  Spaniards." -!bid,  p.  81. 


APPENDIX. 


301 


.  3.  No  pirt  of  the  climate  of  Amrrica  wis  rufficiently  hot,  to  ehinge  it 
into  ail  inunfe  black.  It  is  only  in  the  mofHotfule  heat  of  the  hottell  cli- 
mate, tliai  the  oxttftne  black  ot  the  nci;ro  isform'd.  The  climate  of  A» 
mtrica  under  the  line  falls  tar  Ihort  of  ihii.  "  While  '.he  iic(»ro  on  the 
soaU  of  Afiica  is  fcorched  with  unrcmittinp,  hear,  the  uiliabitaiit  of  Peru 
breathe*  an  air  equally  mild  and  temjiera'r,  and  is  perpetually  (haded  un- 
der a  canopy  of  grey  clouds,  which  iiitcir.C(Ji  the  fierce  beams  of  the  fun."* 
The  clinia'c  in  every  part  of  the  torrid  tone  in  America,  is  much  more 
mild  and  tempcraie  than  the  lame  la'rudc  in  Africa  or  Afia.  In  a  coun- 
try where  the  hott.-ft  clirnaic  is  h»  in  idi'rate,  it  is  not  to  be  expcdlcd  that 
the  Indian  color  Ihnuld  be  cluiifjcd  into  ex'.remc  black.  No  part  of  the 
climate  was  hot  enough  to  produce  this  :  And  any  fmall  variation  in  the 
Indian  ccunlcnanre,  would  not  be  readily  oreafily  dilcernrd. 

4.  The  Lliange  of  color  mod  naturally  to  be  cxpefted  would  be  of  the 
•ontiary  kind,  not  to  l)lack.  but  to  white;  at  Icalt  to  a  lighter  fhadc  than 
what  took  place  noikr  the  Kjuator.  If  there  be  any  influence  or  tendency 
in  cxirenie  coid  t)  produce  a  lair  and  white  complexion,  this  might 
have  been  cxpcdfrd  ;  lor  there  arc  no  colder  climatei  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth,  than  thofe  ot  the  northern  parts  of  Am;  ica.  But  whatever  might 
be  the  innumcc  of  the  climate  to  produce  fuch  a  complexion,  the  Indians 
made  ule  of  fcvrral  certain  and  conflant  methods  to  prevent  it.  One,  was 
their  conftant  habit  of  livint;  and  wandering  about  in  the  woods,  ex pofed 
to  the  full  foice  of  the  winds  and  fun  :  Another,  was  their  extreme  and 
perpetual  filth,  and  diitincfs  :  A  third,  was  their  habitual  ufc  of  greafe  and 
paint.  It  was  iheir  univcrl?!  cuftom  to  anoint  iind  rub  their  bodies  with 
the  greafe  ai  d  oil  of  the  bear,  bcsver,  mu{>.rat,  and  other  animals  ;  and  to 
mix  the  greafe  with  ditl'crtn'  kinds  of  paints,  and  gums.  This  pra6tice 
was  probably  defigned  to  proteft  the  body  againft  the  extreme  variations 
of  heat,  cold,  and  moifture,  to  which  they  vrere  conflantly  cxpofed.  Nor 
could  they  have  provided  any  hotter  defence  againft  heat,  cold,  rain,  and 
infefts,  than  thus  to  cover  their  bodies  with  a  glutinous  kind  of  varni(h< 
And  in  doing  this,  hey  took  a  fure  and  a  certain  method,  to  fix  and  prc- 
ferve  their  color  from  any  approaches  to  a  white,  or  to  a  fair  complexion. 
When  extreme  dirtinels  was  added  to  the  greafe,  oil,  and  paint,  neither 
«limate  or  any  other  caufe  could  produce  a  fair  complexion,  until  thcfe 
were  removed  and  difuled.  Thus  in  the  Indian  quftoms,  and  method  o£ 
guarding  the  body  againft  the  effefls  of  climate,  the  Indian  himfelf  was  ta« 
king  conflant  care  that  nothing  fbould  change the^olor  of  his  Ikin,  or  make 
it  more  tranfparent. 

5.  Where  thefc  cuftoms  have  been  dlfufed,  the  Indian  color  has  been 
found  to  be  changeable.  It  has  never  been  decided  whether  the  Indian 
color  is  exaftly  the  fame  in  every  part  of  America.  No  accurate  compari- 
(ons  have  ever  been  made  between  the  color  of  the  Indians  in  the  hotted 
parts  under  the  equator,  and  thofe  in  the  remote  regions  of  Canada  and 
Hudfon's  bay.  Their  colors  have  never  been  compared  to  any  accurate 
and  known  llandard  ;  and  fmall  variations  in  a  dark  complexion,  would 
not  be  a  matter  ot  common  obfervation.  But  whether  the  Indian  color  be 
the  fame  in  every  part  of  America,  or  not,  it  is  certainly  more  changeable, 
and  not  fo  deeply  fixed,  as  that  of  the  negro.  Many  families  of  the  Indian 
tribes  are  to  be  found  in  leveral  of  our  towns.  Some  of  ihefe  are  at  Cape 
Cod,  and  Rhode  lHand  :  A  confiderable  number  of  them,  are  at  Natic, 
ind  Stockbridge,  in  MalTachufetts.  Their  habits  an4  manners  of  life  are 
^ift'crent  from  thofe  of  the  Indians,  who  rcfide  in  the  (ore(\i.     They  live 

•  Robertfon's  Hift.  America,  I.  ? 53. 
VOL.    I.      O  3 


I 


i 


t    ) 


'l    !( 


•  a  ; 


< 


.1 


502 


APPENDIX. 


in  hourfi,  have  i  fixed  p'lce  of  rffiHencc.and  have  muchdifufed  theeuftom 
of  pjin*  and  nil*  ;  and  their  complexion  ditlerj  much  from  that  oftho 
tribe*  who  yet  remain  in  ihc'.r  ancient  and  orij»inal  ftate.  The  rcddiJh  caft 
it  abated.  I'he  tawny  alpcft  appears  more  dull,  pale,  and  clouded.  The 
erimlon  mixture  IiM  difapp'-arcd.  and  they  have  approximaied  much  near- 
er to  the  color  of  the  hunter  among  the  white*,  than  the  tribet  who  retaia 
their  ancient  cuKoms  and  liabiiv  This  change  of  color  in  the  Indiana  who 
have  lived  long  amon);  the  whiles,  is  apparent  to  common  obfcrvation* 
And  it  is  apparently  derived  from  the  change  in  their  maiineri,  cudomi, 
tnd  habits.  This  change  of  the  Indian  complexion,  clearl/  (howa  what 
kas  been  the  effeft  of  cuftom  and  habit. 

6.  In  the  northern  parti  of  America,  there  are  permanent  phenomena, 
yrhich  will  (ervc  alfo  lo  n>ow  what  has  been  the  cfFeft  of  climate.  The 
Efquimaux  in  the  northern  parts  of  America,  arc  a  people  remarkably  dif- 
ferent from  ihc  Indians,  which  occupy  the  other  parts  of  the  continents 
There  is  not  much  room  to  doubt,  but  that  they  were  derived  from  the 
norlhwed  parts  ot  Europe  ;  are  the  fame  people  with  the  Greenlanders, 
Laplanders,  Zemblans,  and  Samojcds ;  and  like  them,  were  delcenderf. 
frnr\?  the  Tartars  in  the  caft.  Their  dcicent  then  was  probably  from  the 
famt  nation  as  tl-.c  Indians.  Rut  while  the  Indian  tribes  have  by  cuAom, 
prcfcrvcd  their  red  complexion,  the  Efquimaux  have  acquired  a  fallow 
olive,  or  brownifVi  color  ;  more  inclining  to  the  European  whiienefs,  thaa 
to  the  brownilb  red  of  the  Amciican.  To  what  caufecan  we  alcribe  fch'': 
liphtci  -.olor  of  this  branch  of  the  Tirtar  race,  but  to  their  more  northerly 
and  frozen  fituaiion  ?  They  have  adopted  the  (ame  culloms  and  habits,  ai 
the  Indians.  They  rub  and  anoint  their  bodies,  with  greafr,  the  fat  ot  the 
fcal,  and  train  oil ;  and  are  at  filthy  as  the  Indians.  Not  only  fo,  but  they 
drink  the  f-t  of  the  fcal,  and  th«ir  train  oil,  and  cllceni  it  the  moH  pleafanr. 
liquor.  Can  it  be  doubted  what  mud  be  the  eflcft  upon  their  color  ?  Jc 
operates  againfl  the  influence  of  climate,  in  that  part  of  the  earth  where 
climate  operates  mofl  powerfully  to  produce  a  white  complexion.  Th<! 
influence  of  the  two  cau fes  is  divided,  but  the  balance  is  in  favor  of  cli- 
mate, and  the  European  complerlnn.  Thus  in  two  very  extcnfive  and 
numerous  kinds  of  men,  derived  from  the  fame  nation,  climate,  cuftom, 
and  habit,  in  one  part  of  America,  have  produced  or  prcfcrvcd  the  dark 
«rimfon  of  the  Indian  ;  but  in  the  moft  northerly  and  frozen  parts  ot  the 
continent,  the  fame  caufes  have  eflablifhed  the  fallow  olive  color  of  the 
Dfquimaux,  more  refembling  the  Euiopean  whitenefs,  than  the  Indian  red. 
Upon  a  careful  attention  then,  to  the  colors  and  cufloms  of  the  original  in. 
habitants  of  America,  the  phenomena  fcem  to  confirm  the  general  connec* 
tion  which  has  taken  place  between  climate  and  color,  in  the  various  parts 
of  the  other  hemilpheie. 

This  part  of  the  natural  hiftory  of  man,  fecms  to  be  but  very  imperfeftly 
onderftood.     "Xht  great  difficulty  that  attends  it,  is  the  want  of  ancient  and 
accurate  accounts.     U  does  indeed  fcem  to  be  pretty  well  determined,  thac 
the  color  of  the  white  man  is  eafily,  and  foon  changed,  to  a  dark  complex- 
ion :   And  that  the  color  of  the  Indian  is  changeablf,  into  a  lighter  com- 
plexion.    But  no  relations  which  I  have  feen  afford  the  fame  information, 
,relpe£lirg  the  chanoesof  the  African  black.    Nor  can  I  f^nd  any  phenomena 
4r  accounts  which  icrve  to  afccrtain  the  matter,  and  put  it  out  of  all  doubt, 
^  vheiher  there  has  been  any  change  in  the  color  of  the  negroes,  which  have 
ijj   «n  brought  into  any  part  of  America.  Nor  is  it  certain  that  any  fuch  appa- 
rent   alteration  of  the  negro  color,  ought  upon  any  hypothefis  to  have  been 
expcc  ^^* '"  ''^^  courfe  of  four  or  five  generations.     And  yet,  until   fome 
•f  thcfi'  ^^^*  ^'^^^  ^^  afcerlaiaedi  wc  can  hardly  expe^  that  the  Iav;s  «f 


APPENDIX. 


>0^ 


[hows  what 


iMture  which  •pply  to  ihl»  fubjcft,  will  he  iindet/looil.     Impatient  of  tlic 
fatigue  (if  inquiry,  colle£\in);  and  cnmparing  phrnomcna,  lomc  philolo< 
pheri,  with  preat  prccipitaiion,  hdve  pntrnded  to  decide  ii  l.y  lyftcm.  To 
folve  all  diffuuliiei  it  has  been  dcrlartd  by  fomr,  that  ilicri;  are  ditVereiU 
creations,  and   racct  of  iulm  :    I  h^t  the  white  man   i$  oil'*  kind,  the  nrf^rs 
another,  and  the  Indian  a  third,  Ac.      The  bufinrU  ol  making  lyftemj  tor 
iia'urc,  hai  Irldom  anfweird  any  otlier  purpolc,  than  to  difcover  the  pre. 
fumption  ot  thole,  who  have  made  ihcin.     It  has   proved  fo  in   this  cafe. 
JI  there  had  been  as   maay  local   creations  as  there  are  individuali,   thig 
would  not  aftbrd  us  any  iiiformatinn.  or  enable  us  to  advance  one  Aepi  ta> 
wards  a  (olution  of  ihe   problrtn  rcfprftin;^  the  colors  of  different  men. 
Still  (he  inquiries  would  renuin,  what  is  the  feat  of  color  in  thcle  different 
men  ?  Why  do  the  rays  of  light  appear  of  fuch  di^ercnt  colors,  upon  tho 
ikini  of  the  one,  an  1  the  other  ?  Wuy  doei  one  color  appear  molf  com- 
mon in  a  hot,  and  another  color  prevail  the  molf  in  a  cold  climate  ?    And 
how  is  the  change  of  color  produced  by  mariia);e  and  mixture  P  Inftead  cf 
amufm);  ourfelves  with  theories  that  are  attended  A^ith  no  evidence,  and  can 
be  of  no  ufe,  what  is  wanted  in  this  (ubje£f,  is  careful  and  accurate  obler* 
vations.     Thefc  will  indeed  require  a   long  courfe  of  lime,  and   abiliiiei 
very  different  from   ihofe,   which  decide   by  metaphyfical  dilputes  and 
fpeculaiiuns.     But  it  is  the  only  method,  in  which  we  have  any  reafoa  ts 
tKpc61  our  knowledge  of  this  fubjefl  will  be  promoted. 


No.     VI. 


GARRANGULA'S    SPEECH  : 

yyi  fpecivim  of  Indian  policy^  eloquence,  and  tnanntri,    Chai. 

IX.   p.  275. 

•  IN  the  year  16811,  De  la  Barre,  governor  of  Canada,  marched  into 
the  Indian  country,  with  an  army  of  fcventecn  hundied  men.  His  objedt 
was  to  deQroy  the  five  nations.  Sickncis  and  famine  waded  his  army, 
and  he  wiihed  to  conclude  the  campaign  with  a  treaty  of  peace.  To  ef- 
fc£l  his  purpofe,  he  made  a  fpecch  to  the  Indians,  in  which  he  informed 
them  that  he  came  into  their  country,  with  no  other  view  than  to  make 
peace  ;  that  his  matter  was  offjuded  witii  thf;ir  former  conduft,  but  would 
torgivc  ihem,  if  they  would  oblcrve  ihe  terms  that  he  had  prelciibed  ;  but 
if  they  would  not  fubmit  to  his  prefcriptions,  he  had  orders  to  declare  war 
againff  them,  to  burn  their  caflles,  and  put  them  all  to  death. 

Garrangula,  an  Onondago  Sachem,  heard  ihefe  threats  with  contempt. 
He  knew  the  diff  rclTcd  (late  of  the  French  army,  and  that  it  was  wholly 
Cut  of  their  power  to  execute  their  defigns.  He  walked  fi ye  or  fix  times 
round  the  circle,  and  then  anfwered  the  French  governor,  who  fat  ia  an 
elbow  chair,  furroundcd  by  his  officers,  in  the  foUowisig  manner. 

•'  YONNONBIO,* 

'  I  honor  you,  and  the  warriors  that  are  with  me  likewife  honor 

*  you.     Your    interpreter  has  finifhed  your  fpeech  ;    I  now  begin  mine. 

*  Mv  words  make  hade  to  reach  your  ears;  hearken  to  them. 

•  Yonnondio  was  the  name,  by  which  the  Indians  always  addrelTed  the 
governor  ot  Canada  ;  Cttlear  WM  their  phraCe,  whco  fptakiDg  to  the  gov- 
crnoi  of  New  York, 


y 


I'/ 


■  i 


i^ 


h 


I 


J I 


\^ 


1'f 


;( 


i!  r 


*  •      'I 


i   i? 


" 


;   ■tl    r 


w 


APPENDIX, 


«  Yonnondio,  you  mud  have  believed,  when  you  left  Quebec,  that  the 
fan  had  burnt  up  all  the  foiells,  which  render  cur  country  inacccflible  to' 
the  French,  or  that  the  lakes  had  fo  far  ovciflown  the  banks,  that  they 
had  furrounded  our  caOles,  and  that  it  was  impoflibie  for  us  to  get  out  of 
them.  Yes,  Yonnondio,  furcly  you  mufl  have  dreamt  fo,  and  the  cu- 
riofity  of  feeing  fo  great  a  wonder,  has  brought  you  fo  im,  Now  you 
are  undeceived,  fince  that  I  and  the  warriors  here  prefent,  are  come  to 
afTure  you,  that  the  Senecas,  Cayugas,  Onondagas,  Oiicydoes,  and  Mo* 
hawks,  are  yet  alive.  I  thank  you  in  their  nami%  for  bringing  back  into 
their  country  the  calumet,  which  your  prcdcccifor  received  from  their 
hands.  It  was  happy  (or  you,  that  you  left  under  ground  that  tnurdcr« 
ing  hatchet  that  has  been  fo  often  died  in  the  blood  of  the  French.  Hear, 
Yonnondio,  I  do  noi:*flecp)  I  have  my  eyes  open,  and  the  fun,  which  en- 
lightens me,  dilcovers  to  me  a  great  captain  at  the  head  of  a  company  of 
foldicrs,  who  fpcaks  as  if  he  was  dreaming.  He  fays,  thai  he  only  came 
to  the  lake  to  fmoke  on  the  great  calumet  with  the  Onondagas.  But 
Garrangula  fays,  that  he  fees  the  contrary,  that  it  was  to  knock  them  on 
the  head,  if  ficknefs  had  not  weakened  the  arms  of  the  French. 

*  I  fee  Yonnondio  raving  in  a  camp  of  fick  men,  whole  lives  the  great 
Spirit  has  favcd,  by  inflifting  this  ficknels  on  them.  Hear,  Yonnondio, 
our  women  had  their  clubs,  our  children  and  old  men  had  carried  their 
bows  and  arrows  into  the  heart  of  your  camp,  if  our  warriors  had  not 
difarmed  them,  and  kept  them  back,  when  your  mcfTengcr,  Ohguelfc, 
came  to  our  cables.  It  is  done,  and  I  have  faid  it.  Hear,  Yonnondio, 
we  plundered  none  of  the  French,  but  thofe  that  carried  guns,  powder, 
and  ball  to  the  Twightwics  and  Chitlaghicks,  becaulc  thole  arms  might 
have  coft  us  our  lives.  Herein  we  follovf  the  example  of  the  Jeluits, 
who  Rave  all  the  kegs  of  rum  brought  to  our  caftlf,'*.  idl  the  druiikrn  In- 
dians (hould  knock  them  on  the  head.  Our  warriors  have  not  beaver 
enough  to. pay  for  all  thefe  arms,  that  they  have  taken,  and  our  old  mcii 
are  not  afraid  of  the  war.     This  belt  prefcrvcs  my  words. 

*  VVe  carried  the  Engliih  into  our  lakes,  to  trade  there  with  the  Utawa- 
was  and  Quatoghics,  as  the  Adirondacks  brought  the  French  to  our  caf- 
tles,  to  carry  on  a  trade,  which  the  £rigUfh  fay  is  theirs.  We  arc  boru 
free  ;  we  neither  depend  on  Yotuiondio  nor  Coilcar. 

•  We  may  go  where  we  pleafe,  and  carry  with  us  what  we  pleafe  ;  if 
your  allies  be  your  {laves,  u(e  them  as  fuch,  command  them  to  receive 
no  other  but  your  people.     This  belt  prcOrves  my  words. 

«  We  knocked  the  Twiphtwics  and  Chidaghicks  on  the  head,  bccaufe 
they  had  cut  down  the  trees  of  peace,  which  were  the  limits  of  our  coun- 
try. They  have  hunted  beavers  on  our  lands  ;  they  hive  aftcd  contrary 
to  the  cuftoms  of  all  Indians  ;  for  they  left  none  of  the  beavers  alive,  they 
killed  both  male  and  female.  They  bionght  thrSaianas  into  the  coun- 
try, to  take  parr  with  them,  after  thry  bad  conceited  ill  defigns  againft 
us.  We  have  done  Icfs  than  cither  the  Englifh  or  French,  that  have  u- 
furped  the  lands  of  (o  many  Indian  nations,  and  chafed  them  (u  m 
their  own  country.     This  belt  prelervcs  my  words. 

♦  Hear,  Yonnondio,  what  I  fay,  is  the  voice  of  all  the  five  nations  ;  hear 
what  they  aniwer  ;  open  your  ears  to  what  they  fpeak.  The  >Senecas, 
Cayuga*,  Onondagas,  Oneydoes,  and  Mohawks,  fay  that  when  they  bu- 
ried tl  •-  hatchet  at  Cadaracqui,  (in  theprefcnce  of  5  our  prcdccffTor)  in  the 
middle  of  the  fort ;  they  planted  the  tree  of  peace  in  the  fame  place,  ta 
be  there  carefully  preferved,  that,  in  place  of  a  retreat  for  foldicrs,   tha: 

*>fort  might  be  a  rendezvous  for  merchants  ;  that  in  place  of  arms  and  arc- 
* -irunition  of  war,  beavers  and  merchandize  Qiouid  oaly  ^ler  thcreo 


,5 


APPENDIX. 


5G5 


ec,  that  thfs 
icccflible  to' 
i,  that  they 
o  get  out  of 
jnd  the  cu- 

Now  you 
re  come  to 
:s,  and  Mo* 
g  back  into 

from  their 
hat  murder- 
■nch.  Hear, 
1,  which  en- 
compaay  of 
c  only  came 
dagas.  But 
ick  them  on 
h. 

vcs  the  great 
Yonnoiidio, 
carried  their 
iors  had  not 
r,  Ohguellc, 
Yonnondio, 
jns,  powder, 
:  arms  might 

the  Jeluits, 
drunken  In- 
e  not  beaver 
our  old  mca 

the  Utawa- 

to  our  caf- 

Wc  arc  buru 

!t  plcafe  ;  if 
:m  to  receive 


ca 


d,   hccaufe 


of  our  coun- 
d   contrary 

:rs  alive,  they 

to  the  coun- 
igns   agiiind 

ihat  have  u- 
them  fiv  m 


*  Hear,  Yonnondit,  take  care  for  the  future,  that  fo  great  a  number  o! 

•  fdldiers  as  appear  there,  do  not  choke  the  tiec  of  peace,  planted   in  fo 

•  fmall  a  fort.     It  will  be  a  great  loft,  if,  after  it  had  fo  cafilv  taken  root, 

•  you  Ihould  ftop  its  growth,  and    prevent  its  covering  your  country  and 

•  ours  with  its  branches.     I  alTure  you,  in  the  name  of  the  five  nations, 

•  that  our  warriors  fhall  danct  to  the  calumet  of  peace  under  its   leaves, 

•  and  (hall  remain  quiet  on  their  malts,  and  ihall  never  dig  up  the  h<itchet, 

•  till  their  brother  Yonnondio  or   Corlear  (hall  either  jointly'  or  fcparately 
«  endeavor  to  attack  the  country,  which  the  gicat  Spirit  has  given  to  our 

•  anccftors.     This  belt  prelerves  my  words,  and  this  other,  the  authority 

•  which  the  five  nations  have  given  me. 

Garrangula  then  addrcfTed  himfelt  to  Monficur  La  Main,  the  interpreter.' 

•  Take  courage,*  faid  he,  »  Ohgucffe,   you  have  fpirit,  fpeak,  explain  my 

•  words,  forget  nothing,  tell  all  your  brethren  and  friends,  fay  to  Yonnon- 
«  dio,  your  governor,   by  the  mouth  of  Gartangula,  who   loves  you,   and. 

•  dcfires  you  to  accept  of  this  prefent  of  beaver,  and  take  part  with  me  in 

•  my  fcaft,  to  which  I  invite  you.     This  prefent  of  beaver  is  fent  to  Yon« 
'  nondio,  on  the  part  of  the  iive  nations."* 

No.    VIL 

Monument  of  Lord    Vifcount   Honufft  in  Wejlniinjier   Abbey  ^ 
Chap.   XII.  p.  406. 

THIS  monument  contains  a  figure  of  the  genius  of  the  province  of 
MafTachufetts  Bay,  in  a  mournful  pollure,  lamenting  the  fall  of  this  hero, 
and  the  family  arms  ornamented  with  military  tropbies.  Beneath  is  the 
following  infcription,  in  large  chara£ters  : 

The  Province  of  MafTachufetts  Bay,  in  New  England,  by  an  order  of  the 
Great  and  General  Court,  bearing  date,  February  1(^,1759,  caufed  this 
monument  to  be  erefted  to  the  memory  of  George,  Lord  Vifcount  Howe, 
Brigadier  General  of  his  Majefty's  forces  in  North  America,  who  was  (lain 
July  6th,  1758,  on  his  march  to  Ticonderoga,  in  the  34th  year  of  his  age; 
intellimony  of  the  fenfe  they  had  of  his  fervices  and  Military  virtues,  and 
of  the  aifeftion  their  olBcers  and  foldiers  bore  to  his  command. 

He  lived  refpefted  and  beloved  ;  the  public  regretted  hislofs;  to  his 
family  it  is  irreparable. 

Weflminflcr  Abbey  and  its  Curiofities,  p.  95. 

No.    VIII. 


lations  ;  hear 
The  Senccas, 
hen  they  bu- 
ccffTor)  in  the 
imc  place,  ta 
foldiers,  tha-: 
rms  and  arC" 
:r  thcrco 


Monument  ereiltd  to  the  memory  of  General  Wolfe^  in  Wejf. 
minjier   Abbey.    Chap.  XIII.  p,  423. 

THE  fubjefl  is  the  tragic  (lory  of  the  General's  death  in  the  very 
snoment  of  viftory.  He  is  reprefentcd  in  the  laft  agonies  of  expiring  hero- 
Km,  with  his    hand  clofing  the  wound  which  the  ball  that  killed  him 

?  Smith's  Hift.  New  York;  fitftcdUioo,p.  50. 


/ 


i 


1 1,1 


■  i^ 


IMI: 


■-  ;\ 


! 


5t)6 


APPENDIX. 


had  made  in  his  Kreaft,  and  falling  into  the  arms  of  a  grenadier,  v/ho 
catches  and  endeavours  to  fupporc  him  on  his  haunches,  while  with 
one  hand  he  holds  his  feeble  arm,  and  with  the  other  points  to  glory,  in 
the  form  ol  an  angcl  in  the  clouds,  holding  forth  a  wreath  ready  to  crown 
him.  On  the  pyramid,  in  lelief,  is  the  faithful  Highland  fergeant  who 
attended  him,  in  whofe  countenance  the  bigforrow  at  the  mournful  fight  of 
l^is  dying  mailer  is  fo  powerlully  and  pathetically  expreflcd,  that  the  mod 
in^cnfibie  human  being  cannot  look  upon  him,  without,  in  fome  fort,  (bar. 
jng  in  his  grief. 

This  monument  docs  equal  honor  to  the  artift  who  defigned  it,  and  the 
frulpior  by  whom  it  was  executed.  Every  part  is  maflerly.  The  lions 
that  red  upon  the  bafe,  and  the  wolve's  heads  that  ornament  the  flankt, 
are  animated  ;  but  above  all,  the  alt-relief  that  decorates  the  front,  and 
xeprcfciits  the  landing  at  Quebec,  conveys  fuch  a  lively  view  of  the  horrid 
rocks  and  precipices  which  the  foldiers  had  to  climb,  and  the  (ailors  to 
furmount  with  the  cannon,  before  they  could  approach  to  attack  the  cnc- 
iny,  that  one  cannot  tell  which  moll  to  admire,  the  bravery  of  the  troops, 
who  could  conquer  under  fuch  difHcuIties,  or  the  art  of  the  fculptor,  who 
could  make  a  rrprefentation  fo  lli  iking.  The  infcription  carries  no  marks  of 
clUn'ation,  but  limply  records  the  fjtfs  in  the  following  words  : 

To  tlie  memory  of  J/\MES  VVOLtE,  Major  General  and  commander 
in  chief  of  the  Hritifh  land  forces  on  an  expedition  againft  Quebec  ;   who, 
after  furmouniing,  by  ability  and  valor,  all  obftacles  of  art  and  nature,  wz^ 
llain  in  the  moment  of  viftory,  on  the  13th  of  September,  1759  • 
'    The  Xing  and  farliament  of  Great  Britain  dedicate  this  mor.umcnt. 
Wcftminftcr  Abbey  and  its  Curiofuics,  p.  57. 

No.    IX. 

Infcription  on  the  iomh  of  the  Marquis  de  Mantcahn,  at  ^uihsc 
Chap.  Xlll.  p.  423. 

TranHaiion  of  a  letter  from  M.  Rougainvillc,  Member  of  the  Academy  oi* 
Sciences,  to  the  Right  Hon.  William  Pitt. 

Sir, 

THE  honors  paid  durinp;  your  miniflry,  to  the  memory  of  Mr. 
Wolfe,  give  me  room  to  hope,  that  you  will  not  dilapprovc  of  the  grateful 
dloris  made  by  the  French  troops  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  the  Mar- 
rtuis  de  Montcalm.  The  corpfe  of  that  General,  who  was  honored  wi'h 
the  rci'.rct  of  your  nation  is  buried  at  Q'lebtc.  I  have  the  honor  to  fend 
you  an  epitaph,  which  the  Academy  of  Infcriptions  and  Belies  Letirej 
have  v.rote  lor  him  ;  and  I  would  beg  the  favor  of  you,  fu,  to  read  it  over, 
and  if  there  be  nothing  improper  in  it.  to  procure  me  a  pprmiffion  to  fend 
it  to  QjcbcCj  en<Traved  in  marble,  to  be  pur  over  the  Mavquis  de  Mont" 
calm's  tomb.  If  this  permilliin  fliould  be  gianted,  may  4  prcOmic,  fir, 
to  inlrf  at  the  honor  of  a  line  10  acquaint  me  with  iu  and  at  the  lairc  tiinc 
to  fend  me  a  paflport,  that  the  enslaved  marble  rn<iy  Ue  leceived  on  board 
an  Englifti  vcfiti,  and  that  Mr.  Manay,  (ioveuiot  of  Qjebec,  inay  giv; 
jcavc  to  have  it  put  up  in  the  Urfuline  Church,  1  aflc  pardon,  fir,  for  ta- 
king off  your  attention,  even  for  a  moment,  from  your  important  concerns  s 
but  to  endeavor  to  immoitalize  gicat  men  and  illuftrious  citizens,  is  to  do 
Jionortoyou.  1  am  &c,  EOUGALN'VILlJt. 

;  Parii,  March  25th,  1761.  •  '  '      ' 


APPENDIX. 


.507 


er,  who 
lilc  witt 
glory, irt 
Lo  crown 
:ant  who 
il  fight  of 
the  moft 
brt,  Ihar- 

:,  and  the 
The  lions 
he  flankfr, 
front,  and 
the  horrid 
:  (ailors  to 
k.  the  enc- 
.he  troops, 
Iptor,  who 
lo  markaof 

otnmandcr 
bee  ;  who, 
nature,  wa? 

lument. 
8,  P'  57- 


t 
Six* 


MR.  PITT'S  ANSWER. 


lAcademy  of 


IT  IS  a  real  fatisfaClion  to  me  to  fend  you  the  .King's  confent  on 
fuch  an  intcrefting  fubje£t,  as  the  very  handfome  cpitapli  drawn  by  the 
Academy  of  Infcriptioiis  at  Paris,  for  the  Marquis  dc  Montcalm,  which 
is  defired  to  be  fcnt  to  Quebec,  engraved  on  marble,  to  be  U-x  up  on  the 
tomb  of  that  illuftrious  warrior.  The  noble  fentiments  cxpirdtd  ui  the 
dcfire  to  pay  this  tribute  to  the  memory  of  their  Gmeral,  by  the  French 
troops  who  fcrved  in  Canada,  and  who  faw  him  fall  at  their  head,  in  a 
manner  worthy  of  him,  and  worthy  of  them,  cannot  be  too  much  ap- 
plauded. 

I  (hall  take  pleafure,  fir,  in  facilitating  a  defign  fo  full  of  lefpefl  to  the 
jeceafed  ;  and  as  foon  as  I  am  informed  of  the  mrafurcs  taken  for  cm- 
barking  the  marble,  1  (hall  immediately  grant  the  pafTport  you  defire,  and 
fend  orders  Co  the  Governor  of  Canada  for  its  reception. 

As  to  the  I  eft,  be  affured,  fir,  that  I  have  a  juft  (enfe  of  the  obliginfi; 
things  faid  to  me  in  the  letter  wirh  which  you  honored  me,  and  that  I 
thiffk  it  a  fingular  bappinrfs  to  have  an  opportunity  to  cxprefs  thofc  frnti- 
menis  of  diUinguifhcd  eftccm  and  confideralion  with  which  I  have  tht 
honor  to  be,  &c.  W.  PITT. 

April  to,  1761. 

THE   INSCRIPTION  IS  AS  FOLLOWS. 

HIC     JACET 

Utroque  in  orbe  cicrnum  vifturus, 

LUDOVICUS  JOSEPHUS  D£  MONTCALM  GOZOrT, 

Marchio  Sanfli  Verani  Baro  Gabiiaci 

Ordinis  Sanfli  Ludovici  commendator. 

Legatus  Generalis  exercituum  Gallicorum  ; 

Egregius  et  cives  et  miles  ; 

Nullius  rei  appetens,  prxterquam  vcras  laudis, 

Ingenio  felici  ct  litteris  exculto 

Omnes  mili'.iac  grades  per  continua  decora  emenfus. 

Omnium  belli  artium,  temporum,  difcriminum  gnarus. 

In  Italia,  in  Bohemia,  in  Germania  dux   indufirius, 

Mandata  libi  ita  femper  gerens  ut  inajoribus  par  habeietur. 

Jam  ciaius  periculis 

Ad  tutandam   Canadenfem  provinciam  mi(rus, 

Parva  militum  manu  hoUium  copias  non  femcl  repulit. 

Propugnacula  cepit  viiis  armifque  inftru£li{rnTia, 

Algoris,  incdia:,  vigilarum,  laboris  patiens, 

Suis  unice  profpiciens,  immemor  fui  ; 

Hoftis  acer,  viftor  manfuetus. 

Fortunam  virtiite,  virium  inopiani  pf  ritia  et  celeritate  compenfavit, 

Imminens  coloniae  fatum  et  confilio  et  fnasu  per  quadrienniunt  fuftinuit, 

Tandem  ingentem  exercitum  duce  llrcnuo  et  audaci 

Clafrcmque  omni  bellorum  moli  gravem, 

Muliiplici  prudentia  diu  ludificatus, 

Vi  pertraclus  ad  dimicandum 

In  prima  acie,  in  primo  confliftu  vulneratui, 

Religione,  quam  femper  colucrat  innitens, 

Ma^no  fuorum  defiderio,  ncc  line  hoftium  moerore  extinftuscft 

Die  XIV  Septembr.  A,  D.  MDCCLIX.  atatis  XLVIII. 

Mortales  optimiducis  exuviaa  in  cxcavata  humo, 

Quam  globus  iK-llicus  decidens  dilTtlienrque  defodcraf^ 

Galli  lugentes  dcpofuerunt, 

Kt  generofe  hoftium  (idci  commendarunt. 


1     ' 


I 


!, 


iL 


I 


H   I 


!  I, 


i 


SOS 


APPENDIX. 


TRANSLATION. 


HERE  LIETH, 

In  either  hetnifphere  to  live  forever, 

LEWIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM  GOZON, 

Marquis  o(  St.  Veran,  Baron  of  Gabriac, 

Commendatory  of  the  Order  of  St.  Lewis, 

Lieutenant  General  of  the  French  Army, 

Not  Icfs  an  excellent  citizen  than   foldier; 

Who  knew  no  defire  but  that  of  true  glory  ; 

■   Happy  in  a  natural  genius  improved  by  literature  ;   ., 

Having  gone  through  the  feverai  Aeps  of  military  honors^ 

With  uninterrupted  luftrt, 

Skilled  in  all  the  arts  of  War, 

The  junflurc  of  times,  and  the  crifis  of  dangerSj 

In  Italy,  in  Bohemia,  in  Germany, 

An  indefatigable  General, 

He  fo  difchargcd  his  important  trufts 

That  he  feemcd  always  equal  to  ftill  greater, 

At  length  grown  bright  with  perils, 

Sent  to  Iccurc  the  Province  of  Canada, 

With  a  handful  of  men 

He  more  than  once  repuKcd  the  enemy's  forces. 

And  made  himfelf  maftcr  of  their  Forts 

Replete    with    Troops    and    Ammunition. 

Inured   to  cold,   hunger,  watchings  and  labors.) 

Unmindful  of  himfelf, 

He  had  no  fcnfalion  but  for  his  foldiers, 

An  enemy  with  the  (ierceft   impetuofity  ; 

A  viflor  with  the  tcnderefl  humanity, 

Adverfe  fortune  he  compenfated  with  valor. 

The  want  of  ftrength  with  (kill  and  a£livity  ; 

And,  with  his  counfel  and  (upport, 

For  four  years  protraftcd  the  impending  fate  of  the  colony. 

Having  with  various  artifices 

Long    baffled    a  great   army, 

Headed  by  an  expert  and  intrepid  commander. 

And   a    Fleet    furniftied    with    all    warlike    (lores, 

Compelled  at  length  to  an  engagement. 

He  fell,  in  the  firtt  rank,  in  the  firft  onfitt, . 

Warm  with  thofe  ho'pes  of  Religion  which  he  had  always  cherifiied, 

To,  the  incxprclfible  lofs  of  his  own  army. 

And  not  without  the  regret  of  the  enemy's, 

XIV.  September,  A.  D,  MDCCLIX.  of  his  age  XLVIII. 

His  weeding  countrymen 

Dcpofited  the  remains  of  their  excellent  General 

In  a  Grave 

Which  a  fallen  Bomb  in  burfting  had  excavated  for  him, 

A.ecommending  ihem  to  the  generous  faith  of  their  enemies. 

PiiCs  Life,  Vol.  II.  p.  32.1, 

END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


i 


INDEX. 


oooo 


Ahercrernhie  general,  takes  command  of  the  Englifh  troops,  371.  Attempta 
tu  ta<c  T'lcondcroga,  and  isrepulfed  with  great  flaugtiieri  494— ^la. 
-Rniarks  oii  his  tneatures,  412,  413. 

Aday'o.  hit  p  >licy  and  mcafurci,  282,  283. 

jl^ncuttkre,  difficulties  attending  it  ia  the  coloatesi  465— 468> 

^ix  la  ( fijpellct  peace  of,  3,; 8. 

jii/^orq:ins.    '■.fir  couniry,  E64. 

jtmherj  general,  takes  Louifbiurg,  404.  Proceeds  with  his  army  to  Alba* 
ny,  417.  Takf's  pDlFenion  oi  ricomlerot;.*  and  Crown  Poinr,425.  At-* 
teinpis  to  proceed  10  Canada,  434.  Prepares  furthcnext  campaign,  435. 
Plan  for  the  reductitm  nl  Canada,  443.  Arrives  at  Ofwego,  444,  Pro- 
ceeds dn  A/n  tne  river  St.  Lawrence,  and  landj  on  the  illiiid  of  Moatieai| 
444   445-     Effects  the  conqurft  of  Canada,  450. 

Animuli,  American  and  European  compared,   130, 

B. 

Sane  M.  aims  to  deflrov  the  five  nations,  273.  His  army  reduced  to 
^rf-at  diiUcfs,  274.     Make*  a  fpeechtoaad  treaty  with  the  ludiauSi  »^i> 

Brar^  account  .i(,  lOO. 

£tairet,  'lA  ural  hiit;>r>    of,  113 — I2l.         '     '  -         . 

Bee,  DUMible  acid  honey  bee  mdigcnous  to  the  country,  156. 

Mirds,  earner i\  account  of,  134.  Of  palTage,  135,  Singing,  143.  Water 
|.>wi    .44 

Braddoik  neneruf.  appointed  commander  of  the  troops  in  the  Englifh  colO" 
i;ifs.  340.     Defeated  and  fliin  at  Monongehala,  350---352, 

Bradflrcct  cjurul,  defeats  .■  -  In.diansat  Onondago  iivcr,  373.  Takes  Ca» 
daraij  .!  '^r  tort  Fron:ciiac,  413  -4»5- 

Burnet  vuvernor,  buiids  a  tort  ai  Olwego,  3i8, 

C. 

CaUieres  M.  his  pian  10  fu.bdue  the  province  of  New  York,  and  the  Indians 
oi  the  hve  nations,  289.  ayo.  Makes  a  treaty  of  peace  with  the  fiva  na- 
li  ns.  303 

Canada,  .in.  •red  and  expii>red  by  Cartier,  252.  Explored  and  fettled, 
by  Champ  ain,  5B  —260  Reduced  by  >\w  tojiilh,  261.  Rcftored  to 
rrar\.c,  202.  Rs'iuce<i  ;o  s;reat  diltrtl-.  ''Cy.  285  Fiilt  a'Umotol  the 
Eng'ith  co.'onici  lo  rrduC  !■,  1/95 — 29CJ.  S.;cund  atteuipr.  3:^8  — 313- 
Thud  attLin|jl,  3  8-324.  Suiiudric-d  to  the  Briafti  crown  and  go- 
^erntOMit  450.  c  ."ihrmtJ  to  tlie  6(i:iih  gDvernnient  by  tlic  treaty  of 
Palis.  Feb.  jo.  176,3     451.  ,       . 

Cdtiffuu  takf" )  and  p  u  usei.  d  by  the  French,  333. 

Cartter  Junes  cn;ei5  the  mauiii  o\  Canada  rivci,  252,  Gives  it  the  name 
Lii  St.  L-)  A/ience,  pnicn.-ds  as  (ai  as  Hnclielogi  and  cads  it  Moiilical, 
S^s      Piocc'viiiigs  at  mat  ^>iacc,  25^ — '"^Stl- 

Cat  wild,  di  (ciip(ioii  or,  105. 

I'latamount,  a.  count  ot,   104. 

Lkampiain  luke.  account  ot   53,     Difcovercd  and  named,  260. 

Lhampidi'i  Samuel,  lails  up  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  2^8.     founds  the  cityof 
<2  lebec,  259.     Kxpl(  res  the  lakes  Champ'jm  an4  St.  Sacrament,  'i6o. 
fci'gaj^cmeui  wiih  tin.  Iioquoile,  260.     Surranders  Qucbec.s  iheLaglilb, 

VOL.    I.  P    3 


I'll' 


:*   '. 


'     I 


1^1 
lit' 


•     i 

."i 

■I 

ii 


510 


INDElJi. 


261.  Refumes  the  government  of  the  colony,  k6i.  Death  anil  cbarac* 
tcr,  a6a. 

C'lar/ejlmvn  or  Numbtr  Four,  fort  at,  attacked  by  the  French,  and  defended 
by  Stevens,  458 

Chinefe  cuftom*  and  mannrrs,  fimilar  to  thofe  of  the  Indiana  of  Peru,  130* 

C/eri>),  flatc  of  in  the  Britifh  colonic*,  456— 438. 

Ornate,  temperature  of,  50 — 58.  Change  oi,  70 — 8o,  In  Europe,  473-*- 
478. 

CoLmts  EngUJh,  their  diftrcfTcd  flate,  308.  Great  advantagea  from  peace, 
33a.  ... 

Colvfi  of  Men,  difTertation  on,  493 — 503. 

Coluwbus,  di (covers  Amrrica,  2,';4. 

Corlcar,  favcsthe  French  and  Indian  army,  267. 

Courcttla,  invades  the  Mohawks,  367.  Buiids  forts  at  Sorel,  Ch?imbl/« 
and  Cadaraqui.369. 

Qouin  Point,  a  fori  trcctrdat  by  the  French,  329.  Advantafrec  refultingto 
C<)nada  from  this  mcafurc.  3?9.  PaCTive  behavior  of  the  Eiiglifh  colo- 
nies 331.     Taken  p' {Tcffion  ot  by  general  Amheril,  415, 

Cuttivatwtt,  eiledh  of,  75. 

D, 

DeerJU/di  deflroyed  by  the  Fr<cnch  and  Indians,  305.     Repels  their attacka^ 

3'3' 

DetionvHle,  M.  governor  of  Canada,  275.  Plan  of  operations,  276.  Mar- 
ches into  the  Indian  country,  278.  Dcicatcd  by  the  Senecas,  278. 
Makes  peace  with  the  Indians,  281. 

Dicjkau  baron,  commands  the  French  troops  in  Canada,  360.  Defeated 
and  :akrn  prifoner,  36 1<     Remai  ks  on  his  condu£t,  366. 

Dtngan  governor  oi  New  York,  oppofes  the  French  governors  and  influence^ 
and  aitins  the  Indians,  373.  274.  176.  379.  280.  288. 

Dutch  colony,  on  Hudfon's  river,  cultivate  peace  aad  commerce  with  the  la* 
diani,  270.    Surrendered  to  the  Englifh,  S70. 

E. 

Evaporation,  from  the  earth,  76.     From  the  trees,  8^. 
i;ia/a^dJ'yr^  built  by  general  Lyman,  359. 
Edttcatwn,  ftate  of  in  the  colonies,  463. 
Ermine,  defci  ibed  ,111. 

tfquimaux,  their  appearance  and  defcent,  233. 

Exfieditions  tor  the  reduftion  of  Canada,  firlt,  295—299.  Second,  30R— 
313,     Third,  318— 3«4.     Fourih,480— 424.  443.  4^«. 


F'/k,  account  of,  145*     Migration,  147.    Immenfe  numbers,  149. 

/orf/?j.  immcnfe,  8.. 

loffil  fliells,  noted,  15O.-  - 

fox,  accoum  of,  103. 

Frogi,  found  in  the  earth  at  Windfor,  Caftleton,  and  Onion  river,  15s, 

153       At  Butlingion.  479—482. 
Fronienac  count,  fends  an  aimy  againft  New  Ilampfliire,  and  another  againft 

New  York,  291.     Defends  Quebec,  297,  298.     Expedition  agaiaft  the 

Mohawks,  300. 

Ctrrnnguls,  fp«ech  to  De  Barre^?^,  503. 


INDEX. 


511 


§infen^.  In  great  plenty,  8^ 
GvoJ'c  wild,  account  of,  135. 


H. 


Hire    defcribed,  1 10. 

h^vdand  colonel,  proceedi  from  Crown  Point  to  Canada,  and  arrives  at  the 

river  Si.  Lawrence  oppofite  to  Montreal,  449. 
/Itat,  of  the  aimolphcrc,  58.     Ot  the  earth,  73.     Of  the  treei,  94. 
lli/loricaluriten,  noted,  <j6o,  461. 
Hoikdogu,  vilKcd  by  Canier,  352.    Called  Montreal,  153     State  of  the 

Indians, and  proccedingsot  Cartier  at  that  village,  253  — 258. 
Hoofic.  fort  at,  taken  by  the  French,  336. 
Hojtilities,  between  the  Englilh  colonic*  aud  the  five  nations,  27a.     Treaty 

ot  pcitce  and  commerce,  27 a • 
Howe  Lord,  (lain  at  Ticonoero^a,  406.     Monumental  infcription,  505. 
Hunter  Mr.  "•       lor  of  New  York,  his  mcalurci*  of  policy,  313. 
Jiuror'     heu  .        'ry,  £64. 

I. 

Indiartf^  the  original  inhabitants,  160.  Their  appeannre  and  countenance, 
161.  limploymenrs  and  methods  of  proc  inn;;  futxid^ncc,  .6-t.  State 
of  focJety,  164.  Naiure,  form,  ftrengih,  fime's,  and  piFed  ot  cheir  civil 
government,  1(15 — 170.  Syftfm  of  war,  170.  Manner  in  which  it  was 
carried  on,  171.  Treatmrnt  of  piifoncrs,  173  — 177.  Tntir  tyllcm  ot 
war  fuited  to  their  (late  of  fociety,  177.  Indian  educatiuu,  179,  Cul- 
toms  and  manners  ;  gravity  of  a,)pearance,  180.  Treatment  ot  women, 
l8i.  Dref«,  183.  Idienefs,  iSj.  Dircinels,  184.  Gaminj;,  185. 
Songs,  184.  Dancing,  186  Beaid,  188  Dnmkciincis,  190.  CtueN 
ty,  igi.  Health,  activity,  and  bodilv  vigor,  195.  firmncij  and  torti- 
tdWe  of  mind,  197.  Political  talents  and  virtues,  iqg  Piudenoe,  ?.oo. 
Eloquence,  20» ,  Holpitaliiv,  203.  Hon;.ftv,  ?.t->5.  Moralnv,  ■id^^ 
Intcllcctu.il improvement!,  ao6.  Infcription;.,  2*7.  1  leas  ol  che  Dsity, 
2o8.  Pf  the  immortality  of  the  foul,  209.  Virtues,  zio,  Auaitunrju* 
in  ilie  arts,  21 1.  Population,  the  ftateot,  «i,5.  Cauies  of  its  deticiency, 
aij  — 222.  Averfe  to  all  improvemcnu,  2ia,  Unjjin  ;?25— /3ti  An- 
tiquity, eftimated  by  their  extent,  837;  by  th.ir  la' ;juaues.  239  ;  by 
thcir  arts,  841.  Progrcl.s  of  lociety,  i\^.  Its  a'p'fl  m  Mexico,  243  ; 
in  Peru,  245.  Tendency  to  dilfolutiun,  240.  Ravage  ihe  eallern  piO« 
viuccs,  303. 

Jjifcif',  Ip'-cii-j  of,  156. 

joh/Jbn  colonel,  commdnds  an  expedition  againft  Crown  P.iint,  358.  Df- 
feai*  the  frcnch  troops  under  the  baron  Diclkau,  363  —  366  Re- 
marks on  his  onduft,  367.  Build* fore  William  Kenrv,368  Rewar- 
ded and  piomo'.cd  by  ihf  3ritilb  government,  390.  Dcttaij  the  French 
and  capcurci  the  fuft  at  Niagara,  43^ — 437.  Abilities  apd  addrcfi  in 
manajjing  the  Indian^,  437,438. 

!rcfi:iif:,  ihtir  coui.try  and  poAcr,  263.  Hoftility  to  the  French,  1^65, 
266.  875.  278.  Dcilr  >v  Montreal,  284.  Rfducc  the  French  to  gtcat 
ditlrefs,  285.  Policy  anu  mtiturcs  wuti  the  Englifh  colonics,  iS'J.  3j«;. 
Their  frn;imrntson  the  cxofdition  againU  Canada,  299.  Five  ol  their 
chiefs  make  a  voyage  to  England,  3I5.  Make  a  fpeech  to  Queen  Anne, 
■1'6,  317.  Utitavorablc  tentiincnts  of  the  Englilh  power  and  policy, 
^24.  Joined  by  a  Uxtb  naiion.  ^^^.  Their  obfcrvausns  oathc  coodufl 
ot  the  Engl i(h,  346, 


7 


I 


,i; 


512 


INDEX. 


L. 


taw,  courts  of  in  the  Britlfh  culoniei,  458,  459. 

Lije  vegttcttle,  power*  of  in  America,  97,     Animi],  powers  of,  159. 

Loudon  lord,  lakes  the  command  of  the  Englifh  troops  in  the  colonics,  374. 

Anrcdoirs  of,  379.     Embarks  on  an  expeditisn  againA  Lnuifbourg,  381. 

KrtiKns  to  New    York,  and   engages  in  a  conteft  with  the  province  of 

MaiFachurcits,  400,  401.     Returns  to  England,  403. 

M. 
Ma/>neUc  ehfenations,  an  account  of,  474. 
Malauiris,  extent  ot  their  navigation  and  icttlements,  232. 
M,iv,  not  an  animal  of  climate,  ajG. 
Martin,  dcfcrib'-d,  lOO- 

Medical  pml  uf  fciencf..  flate  of  in  the  Biitifh  colonies,  4591  460. 
Memp/jrrmaoc^j  la/ic,  account  or,  52.  •       i*        ••  '    ' 

M>7ik    dficii;iid,   193. 
Mohnuku  attack,  d  by  ihc  Frtn«h,  867.  301.     RoaO  and  eat  the  bodies  of 

their  cnrniK  J,  ;^02. 
Moiiiklvn  colohd,  coinniains  an  rxpfiHlicn  in  Nova  Scotia,  J52 — 3^4. 
Moti/Lulm,  takis  O.'wtt;!.),  573       Violates  thr  arti<:les  of    Criptiulalion,  37G. 

Mcafurei  witli  the  Iiidianj,,  38a       Takes  fort  William  Henry,  385~3qf. 

Baibarous    violation  oi   the  Caipituli^tion  and   malTacrc  of  the  garri(on, 

391—398      Rtflc£iions  <iii   Monicalm's  coiiduft,  398— 40*.     Defcatt 

Abercri  inbir  at    ( icondrroga,  ^ji  i.      Defeated    by    Wolfe,  and  die*  at 

Q'lrhec,  403       Moiiunifiital  intc.ipiion.  506. 
Montreal,  named  by  Cinicr,  i-,^      Jlcttled  bvihe  French,  fi8o.     Deftroy*. 

ed  by  the  Indians,  284.     Sunendcnd  to  general  Amhcilf,  4^0. 
Moofe,  nrrount  ot,  c;r). 
Mvuutani.i,  their  dm ^!  on,  26.     Altitude,   27.     Caverns,   ig.     Origin  of 

Ipriii^t  and   ri^f  t  ■•.  ^1. 
Murray  ^mtral,  fittcii  much  with  h's  armv  at  Quebec,  445.     Defeated  by 

the  French,  446,     Relieved  by  the  Britifh  licet,  447.     Proceeds  up  the 

rivei  St.  La«itiice,  aid  lands  on  the  ifland  of  Mouueal,  447 — 448. 
'^Jujkrtit,  delciibed,  x'zx. 


!  H 


11;!' 


N. 

A'wffdr,*,  fortified  by  thf   French,  269.     Taken  by  general   Johnfon,  435. 

iS'ichvlfon,  commands  an  armv  againlt  Canada,  309.  Puts  an  end  to  die 
catiipRicn,  311,  Rrdviics  Port  Royal,  318.  jL-'ies  another  experiitiotv 
agaiiif)  Canada,  318.  Commands  trie  colony  tro.'<ps,  320,  Difbands 
hii  army,  32a.  ? 


^11 


Q. 

Ofwtgo  Jcrt,  built  by  povernor  Burnet,  328, 

357.     Taken  by  Montcalm,  375, 
I'/Zfr,  account  of,  122. 


Fortified  by  general  Shirley, 


farhr  colonel,  defeated  by  the  French  and  Indians,  383. 
/Ar^5  K'>7/raM,  commands  a  fleet  and  army  agaiull  Quebec,  a97( 
J'icherely  defcribcd,  148.  v,       .,•,  , 

Pigeons,  immenfc  numbers,  136 — 138. 

JPitt  William^  appointtd  fecreiary  ot  Itate  to  c onduft  the  affairs  of  the  Bri- 
tilh  colonies,  40ie>     Extent  and  ijoldnels  of  his  plans  againff  the  f  rcnch^ 


INDEX, 


513 


4 1 8—440.    Judgment  and  wirdom  in  the  appointment  of  generals,  ^38, 
Poltfv  and  view*  ot  the  court  of  Fiancr,  3*7.  34J. 
PolJt'cal  npinioHf  in  ihe  colonira,  468,  4^>)> 
fopulaiiimt  fmali  among  the  lndi«nf,  215.     Caufeiof  itj  deficiency,  315— 

891.     In  the  colomea,  464.     ■„,.., 
Porcupine,  account  oF,  \cy.  ■    '   ' 

Pne/lfox  midionaries,  their  attempts  and  influence amon^jthr  Indians,  ?7i, 
Putnam  major,  di'roveri   the  deligns  ot   the  enemy  againil  ton    William 

Henry,  284,  2  {>j. 

Quadrupeds,  account  of,  98.     The  enumeration  impeileft,  \  ag.    Origin, 

ie.5.     Migration,  197.     Species,  128.     Maj^mludc,  189.      Icmper  and 

dilpofition,  131.     Multiplying  power,  132. 
Qutbfc,  founded  by  Champlain,  2^9.     Taken  bv  thf  Englifh,  afii.     Ke- 

flored  to  the  French,  262.     Attacked  lay  the  hnglilh,  aqS.      lakfn  hy 

Wolfe,  423. 
Lit  Quefne  fort,  huiit  by  the  French,  340.     Abandoned  by  the  French  and 

lalcen  by  the  EngliOi,  ^17. 

R. 

^(jiiiV,  defrribed,  no. 

ifjfoon,  account  of,  tc6.  '  *  . 

Rain,  quantity  of, 62. 

i?jwr J,  account  of,  39,     Channels,  44.     Form  inte-    '05,44.     El^cfts  on 

the  rocks,  47.  ,  . 

.  Hocitingham,  Indian  infcripiioni  at,  207.  '  ■ 

Rogeti  major,  deftroys  the  Indian  village  at,  St.  Francois,  428 — 433* 
jRjiyWtA,  peace  of,  302. 

S. 

5a/wo)i  f<7/6.  fort  at  dcftroyed  by  the  French,  agt. 

Salmov  2>ou/,  account  of,  J 48.  -    1 

Stiteiiedddf,  c'.eltroycd  by  the  French  and  Ind'ans,  ^92,  '-93. 

Schuyler  m-jjor,  exertions  at  Albany  and  Schcnt-^hdy,  v>y^.  SuGceTs  aRainfl: 
the  Freirch  (ettlrments  on  the  river  .Sotcl,  p.fjg  Aliiii'tiie  Moliawks, 
301.  Gives  information  of  ihe  enemy's  dcligitii  agrfiiiii  Dccrfuld,  304, 
Influence  with  ti>e  Indians,  Stg.  Make*  a  voyaijc  10  luigland  wilii  fjvt: 
Indian  chiefs.  31.3.  Procures  the  Indians  to  afRll  in  an  cx^cdilioii  a- 
gainll  Canada.  320. 

Science,  ffate  of  m  the  colonies,  461,  462. 

Serpents,  Ipccies,  154.     Falcinatiug  p6wcr,  15/;.     DifloilaUon   on,  483— 

.  493-  .   ^ 

'htrky,  Mr.  plans  an  expedition  againfl  Cape  Breton.  333.  Againft 
Quebec,  335.  Againft  Crown  Point,  336.  Conitninioiiet  at  Pans, 
339.  Exertions  in  favor  of  the  Englifh  colonies.  348  349.  Comman- 
dc  r  in  chid  of  the  Enj.lifh  troops  in  North  Amtnca,  3/^4.  Proceed- 
ings at  Ofwego,  3.55 — 358.  Settles  the  plan  of  opeiati'ii^  lor  tlic  next 
tampaign,  369.  Superceded  in  the  command,  and  retires  trom  the  fer- 
vice,  372. 

S^7(n^, account  of,  108. 

Snazo,  obfervatiofis  and  experiments  00,64-67.     Decreafc  of,  77. 

Snoiu  bird,  defcribed,  135. 

Sprixgs  and  nicrj,  .their  oiigln  and  formation,  31—35?. 


li 


.!l 


i    I 


iu 


INDEX. 


Sfuirref,  teooom  of,  III. 

Sianuix  fart,  rrtfird  at  ijle  cirryin/j  plice  it  Oneydl,  4tti  • 

Stfvrns  citf'tain,  cl*f»ndi  the  fort  at  Number  Four  337. 

iwJ'iouii,  iheir  ditfcrcnt  kiada,  138  Place ot  redd. nee  in  wintrf,  t\9-^ 
14)  Obfrrved  at  Danby,  140.  At  Midtllcbury,  140.  At  iiridport| 
141.     At  HubbardtoB,  143,  ;^ 

Tjf/iff.  rcfrmbic  th(»   American  Indiana  in  tbrir  features,  9t7.     In  their 

u (torn J,  ««7  — ;3). 
J'vr.  their  kiFiil«,  81.    Magnitude,  87      Nurnbcr,  88      ^^c,  8g.     £vapo< 
.    rttion  0^      EmifTioo  ot  air,  gi.     Hpsi,  93      Eticds,  96. 
Trots  R  vtcffi,  (cttled  by  the  French,  365.  •  •' ' 

Tico-i.itro^UiUin  at,  built  by  the  French,  yjQ      AttacU'd  bv   Xbcrcronfibie, 

4(/4.     Evacuated  by  the  French,  and  UKrn  poflcnion  of  by    Amherit, 

424. 

.,,  ■.,;.  .,'.-.  ^    ^       :..  -        y  •  .  :.     ..     , 

Union  of  the  Eia;!''^  cotonici,  plan   .f,  pripi)f(.'d  at  Albany,  34^— 348.'" 
i'Crecht,  i>ticc  iil,  ^i^.     CiTcd  uu  ihc  Indu/is,  325. 

V. 

Vaitdiieul  M.  fcnda  an  army  ai^ainft  Deerfield,  304.  Mrafurei  for  ihc  de-. 
fence  ot  CintAi,  3io— 332.  Takes  furt  Houhc,  336.  Governor  gen- 
eral of  Canada,  360.  Dliref*  and  exertions  in  defence  of  Cmada,  435 
-•4j2.     S.iriciiders  tlic  whole  country  to  general  Ainherll,  .jyi. 

Vegftablts,  elculei.t,  8j,     Medicinal,  84. 

VermjrUi  iv.\xinon,ti.  Boundary  line*,  2t.  Quantity  of  land,  34,  Saii^ 
a^.     fjce  of  the  country,  ij,. 

w; 

IValker  ILotnuue,  comiKands  a  fleet  for  the  redu6li<»n  of  Q  lebec,  319.  lt\ 
•xtu'tne  riaiii>.-r  v^uli  his  floci.,  3^1.     Returns  i<»  England,  322 

Htir,  thi.  firll  between  the  Eoglini  and  French  colon-^s  289  Origin  of 
the  crtioinai  v\-.«i$,  .yj  — 4J4.  M  )rai  elF  fts,  454-455  EflFfffs  on  the 
lifrarv  and  fi"i?ntinc  charattfrand  puriuits  of  liic  c  idhIcs,  455 

Wdjh^ngton  (kor^e,  cotiimillioncd  by  the  gnvcrinr  of  V.r^Piia,  341.  De» 
tcflfn  M.  ttf  j'jm'nivjlk,  342,     Defeated  by  Dc  Villier, 34a. 

KVayir/,  delciibrc)     iio, 

H'eat/ur,  acccui.i   '>f,  07  -69.     Change  of,  78.       ,  '     _  ... 

We/litifi,   Incijn  larctiptioiij  at,  a'17.  -■  <    .  '  ^'-    "•■'■■ 

IVilluins    fvhn,  antcvlotc's  of,  306,  .'<.-•>;-'       j    •    -^ -■  ?>  . 

Windi,  ihfir  »i.:f^.hiui,  ^tj  — 61. 

JVinjlow  colonel,  f}t'\igta  in  an  expedition  in  Nova  Scotia,  353.  Coi^. 
maiid*  an  aim.  -ti  loii  William  Henry,  076. 

W^/>/Ar/>/»    JiAi,  cciniiiaods  an  army  againlt  Canada,  296.  •   , 

JVoodchuck,  account  <-i,  ic8.  ^     "'""    "'  '   ' 

Tf'nlf,  account  oJ,  lai. 

^titje  general,  bravery  at  LoiiKbiurg,  404.  D*aih  and  conquetl  of  tl^c 
city  of  Qitbec,  4^13-. .4^4..     MonumLiij.ii  infcriplion,  ^o^. 

Wolverine,  dcfcriptiou  of,  i.n. 


^jy^  pan  of  the  i«pr.fllon.  the  fonowiog  .,«>„  were  r.t  eorreftcd. 


101 

'37 
42a 

4»7 

433 

436 
491 


«3 

«8 

7 

4 

.2 


mifdneft 
Cciidon 
Siilary 

Burtema^ne 

BurJemagne 

raditn 

V(?nang8 

F*rguhar 

ocw 


'tad 
wildncfi, 

C.arendon. 

Siljery, 

Burlemique, 

•■adeau. 
Venanco. 

Farou.'.ar. 


